A Prince in Disguise
by The Green Archer
Summary: The Beast gets a reprieve on his curse, but will he find out if Belle truly loved him? Meanwhile, Gaston will do anything to make Belle his wife. Alternate ending to the movie.
1. Part I: Loss

**Part I**

_She's not coming back._

It was the one thought he had as he bent over the rose, waiting. It didn't matter that he had saved her life. It didn't matter that he had changed for her. It didn't matter that they had spent one spectacular evening together, dancing in a ballroom under a dazzling chandelier.

In the end, he was, and had always been a Beast. And as much as he wanted her to stay, he knew in his heart, that her freedom was the best thing he could possibly give her. After all, she had never belonged here. She deserved to be happy, to be with her father, to live out her dreams, not trapped in a castle with a hideous Beast for the rest of her life. It had been wrong to keep her here, wrong on so many levels.

Still, he couldn't deny. Before she had left there had been a small sliver of something, when she had touched his cheek he had hoped…more like wished that something would happen…that she would change her mind perhaps? That she would decide to stay, realizing she felt more for him than she first realized? But no, he was being stupid. No one could ever love a Beast. It was just a fantasy now. A daydream. It was hopeless.

* * *

><p>Gaston dashed from corridor to corridor, becoming more and more frustrated with every empty room he came across. His rage was not only charged at the Beast he was about to kill but at the woman who had brought him here: Belle. He could not believe how cheeky that girl was, to choose this hideous Beast over him, him, Gaston, the greatest man in the entire village! Sure, he had let her slip by him once before, figuring she was playing hard to get, but this time she had definitely crossed the line. And no one humiliated Gaston, especially his own bride!<p>

Of two things Gaston was certain of: The Beast would be dead by tonight. And once he brought back his body and mounted his head on his wall, Belle would have no choice but to marry him. He would make no mistake about that.

* * *

><p>Thunder rumbled in the distance as Belle pressed Philippe onward, her father in saddle behind her and Chip sitting inside the satchel she was wearing on her shoulder.<p>

_How could I have done this?_ she thought as they dashed through the darkness of the forest. _Why didn't I hold my tongue about the Beast, or find another way to get my father out of the asylum that didn't involve him?_

Yes, now that she looked back at the scene she'd caused back at the village, she wondered whether it was actually _worse_ to have her Beast be killed by Gaston than to see her father locked up for something he'd been falsely accused of. Hadn't he suffered enough pain already? She hadn't meant to put his life at risk to save her father's; she hadn't meant that at all. And now he and all the servants of the castle, her _friends_ were in danger because of her. Her only hope was that she could get there before it was too late.

* * *

><p>The gates to the castle had been violently shoved open. A makeshift battering ram had been jammed into the front doors and several panes of broken glass had been scattered across the lawn from where Belle could only assume the villagers had broken in earlier. As soon as they crossed the bridge, she skid Philippe to a halt and leaped free from the saddle. She had no idea if Gaston had found the Beast already, and could only pray that he would see her from down here and know that help was on the way. He had to stay alive, for her.<p>

But it was too late.

From up on the rooftops Gaston struck the Beast in the head with the makeshift club he had taken from one of the spires on the roof. The Beast stumbled backwards and slid down towards the eavestroughs. His last thoughts were of Belle and how he wished he could have seen her again, before he lay motionlessly against the shingles. Gaston stared at him and then stepped forward and kicked him in the side. Nothing happened.

_I've done it then,_ he thought. He had defeated the Beast without so much as a scratch…because he was Gaston! How could he doubt his abilities when he was the greatest? Still there had been a moment when Belle had proven her father's delusions to be wrong that he almost thought…well he was just underestimating himself wasn't he? Gaston never lost!

"Gaston!" a voice shouted against the wind. He looked down and he saw her, his beautiful wife, whether she'd come to help the Beast or come to give herself to him, it didn't matter now, either way the battle had been won.

"Looking for this?" he shouted, lugging the abominable monster off the roof.

She heard a terrible sound escape her lips as she watched the Beast fall backwards, his claws flailing upwards, his cape whipping violently against the wind. He landed with a sickening crunching noise on to edge of the ravine, and then she was throwing her satchel off and running to him, feeling her heart doing somersaults in her chest, she would not, could not believe…

"No, please! Wake up, WAKE UP!"

There was blood everywhere, trickling on to the dirt, staining his shirt, staining her dress as she stumbled down beside him. She knew before she'd even touched him that nobody could survive this fall. His wounds were too deep, his body was too broken. Her dear Beast, the one who she had shared an unforgettable evening with, who she had read her favourite stories to, who she had played with out in the snow, was now nothing more than an empty shell before her, a prey that had just been slaughtered. And no one in the world would ever care, except for her. The only one who had seen his soul and the true beauty that lay within it. This was all her fault.

"Beast," she whispered, clasping her hands to her face. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…"

She didn't know how long she lay there next to him. It might have been years. A lifetime. She didn't even know Gaston was behind her until he pulled her away to face him, looking more savage than any animal she had ever seen in her life.

"Time to go, Belle," he said. "I think we've prolonged this wedding for far too long now, don't you think?"

Her eyes widened with horror. "NO!" She tried desperately to reach for the body but Gaston was already lifting her off the ground, carrying her nonchalantly back to his horse.

"We're going back to the village now," he continued as he chucked her on to the saddle. "And you, old man," he said, turning to Maurice, "Don't even _think _about making any detours on that horse of yours."

Belle's father was silent. His eyes were only for his daughter, who had always been so strong and brave and was now in complete hysterics as she sat on Gaston's black stallion. What in heaven's name had the boy done to her?

They rode back into the woods, leaving the Beast's body at the foot of the castle, the sound of Belle's sobbing growing fainter as they moved further away.

And from the West Wing, the last petal of the enchanted rose finally fell.

* * *

><p><em>DeviantArt cover image credit: Belle Commission by ~yumedust.<em>

_This is just a crazy idea I had for a BATB story about a year ago which was buried in the depths of my iPod touch, before one of my readers, BronyBraeburn encouraged me to turn it into a real fic. Brony has also kindly agreed to beta-read this story for me, which I am extremely thankful for :) Despite what this opening chapter suggests, this story will have a happy ending, and will also feature lots of screentime from all three characters: Belle, Beast and Gaston. Updates will be inconsistent as I'm working on another BATB story at the same time, but if the reviews are good I may try to make a point of writing more/updating faster._

_Thanks for reading!_

_The Green Archer_


	2. Pardon

She didn't know that anyone could cry this much.

She'd read books of course, stories about heroes who had lost loved ones to tragic circumstances, but she never dreamed that the pain could feel like this; this nameless, aching, heart-wrenching sensation that may have even surpassed the grief she'd once felt for being separated from her own father.

The Beast was dead, and it was all her fault. She was the one who had left his side, acting without thinking. She was the one who had revealed him to a crowd of villagers, the one who had come for him too late, who had left him to die at the foot of the castle, alone, despised and unloved.

_I am a monster,_ she thought. _A monster for leaving you._

The minutes passed and the tears continued to flow freely from her face. All she could think about was him. His energy, his excitement. The way his face would light up when he managed to read a word right or get a bird to eat out of his paw. Maybe she had thought he was a monster at first, but beneath that ugly exterior there was something so _beautiful_ about him, something that made him so different from anyone she'd met in her poor, provincial town. He didn't deserve to die. But who would know that, apart from her? She was the only one who would remember him now she realized, the only one who would know that he was more than just a Beast.

And she needed him now, more than anything.

An hour passed. Belle's tears dissolved into dry hiccups, her grief for the Beast overlapping with a fresh feeling of dread and resentment for the man sitting in saddle with her – Gaston. Her fate with him seemed so marginal compared to the Beast's death, and yet she knew she would gladly remain a prisoner of the castle in its darkest moments if that was what it would take to get her and her father away from the awful man before her.

"I see you've finally settled down," said Gaston said smugly when they were about three miles away from the village. "That's good. The only tears you should be shedding are tears of joy for our wedding day."

"I'll _never_ marry you, Gaston," Belle replied sharply. "What you've done is despicable."

"I wish you would be a little more appreciative of me, Belle. That monster was a threat to the village. He had to be put down for his own good."

"He was only a threat to you! And you know it!"

The horse whinnied loudly as Gaston pulled them to a halt. It seemed those books had done more damage to the girl's head than he thought. Just one more thing he would have to rectify as soon as they married. "Now you listen to me, Belle," he said, bending his head over so that his mouth was resting beside her right ear. "I've tried playing along with you, I've tried being nice. But the fact remains that you have refused my hand twice already. It really wounds my heart, considering there's not a girl in town who wouldn't _love _to be in your shoes."

He gripped her arm tightly, causing Belle to let out a cry of pain. "So once we get back," he continued, whispering in her ear, "I'm going to give you another chance. And this time, it will be an offer you can't refuse."

"You wouldn't dare," Belle said through gritted teeth.

"I always get what I want, Belle," Gaston replied, and the smile on his face was enough to make her wish that she had never gone back to the village with her father. "And there's nothing I want more than to have _you_ as my wife."

* * *

><p>A small, white light appeared outside the castle gates. It grew larger and more defined in shape before it became the form of a woman, her long, blonde hair floating around her as though caught in an invisible wind.<p>

The enchantress, as they called her, silently hovered into the castle grounds, indifferent to the rain, which appeared not to touch her skin at all. Despite the darkness of the storm, there was an odd brightness about her, as though the light that reflected off her came from a different place entirely.

It took her no time to find the Beast, lying so dangerously close to the ravine that it was a miracle he hadn't fallen in already. The hunter had left his body in a bad way, but the girl had been wrong, for while he had fallen from a great height the enchantress had been built him to be strong. Upon approaching him, her ears could still hear the faint sound of a heartbeat within his broken chest. Gently, she bent down and placed a hand on his stomach, letting the warmth of her magic fall into him. Within a few minutes his breathing began to grow, his heartbeat picking up speed. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to her, his gaze sharpening once he recognized who was kneeling before him.

"You!" he gasped. "It's…you."

"The last petal has fallen, dear prince," said the enchantress. "Your spell has now become permanent."

A heavy sigh rose from the Beast's chest. "It doesn't matter now," he replied. Next to losing Belle, knowing that he would never be human again was strangely relieving, like going to bed at the end of a very long and tiring day. "I had my chance. I tried. I gave her everything. I let her go. And now, I am ready to die as the monster I have been all along."

"You truly believe yourself to be a monster after all this time?" the enchantress replied, raising an eyebrow at him curiously.

"I took her away from her father and made her live here as my prisoner. I was selfish and cruel. What else can I be?"

"You granted her her freedom when you knew it would cost you yours."

"I had to," he replied. "I loved her."

The enchantress's expression softened to resemble one of compassion. "Such self-sacrifice," she remarked. "You are truly no longer the selfish prince that refused shelter to me so long ago. You have learned to love and to put others before yourself, and it is for that very reason that I cannot let you die tonight."

The Beast's eyes lit up in surprise. "What did you say?" he said to her in disbelief.

"Dear prince. When I wrote the conditions of your spell, it was with the intention of giving you a chance to change your ways, to teach you humility and learn to see past initial appearances."

"I have been watching you for the past months, and I have seen the ways in which you have transformed, your heart no longer cold, but filled with compassion. You have learned from your mistakes, you have become a better person and tonight, you have not only proven your love for the girl by giving her her freedom, but a willingness to sacrifice your life in place of hers. You are no longer the Beast you once were. And so I cannot let you die here, left in a body meant for someone you no longer are."

The Beast's eyes widened in surprise. "You intend to _save _me?" he replied. "But what's the point in living if there is nothing left for me? Belle is gone. She's not coming back! She won't even know who I am! No, I can't do this. Just let me be."

"Ten years is a long time to be cursed, dear prince," said the enchantress. "It was never my intention to let you die here, and I know, inside, that it is not yours either."

A strange wind began to pick up around the Beast. It rippled through his fur, sending tingling sensations across his skin; just as it had that night ten years ago. "Wait, please!" he cried, feeling his eyes watering under the halo of light surrounding him. "At least tell me why."

"But you already know." She lowered her head towards him so that their faces were inches apart. "Do not give up faith, your highness, for you may soon find that the one you seek is not so far out of reach. The door is now open; it is simply a matter of finding the courage to walk through."

With that, she placed a tender kiss on his brow and stepped backwards. The Beast tried to call out to her, tried to sit up and stop her but his limbs were too heavy, her magic binding him in place. The last thing he saw was the smile on her face before his vision was obscured by blinding light and he fell away into nothingness.


	3. Despair

When Belle awoke the next morning she was at first confused, wondering why she was lying in her bed back home instead of at the castle. It wasn't until she sat up and rubbed her eyes that the memories of the previous night came flooding back: riding to the castle with her father, watching the Beast fall from his tower, sobbing over his body before Gaston dragged her away, and, after a ride through the woods that seemed never-ending, being dropped off at her house with her father, Gaston giving her an eerie smile as he wished her a good night and promised that he would return for her in the morning.

She immediately wished she could slip under her covers and never wake again. There was no doubt that Gaston intended to keep his word. Now that she was back where he wanted her she could only imagine what he planned to do to force her hand. _If only someone could help me. _She thought of the Beast, but a quick look at the bloodstained pinafore hanging from her chair only confirmed what had happened the night before. He was dead and it was all her fault.

The room grew ten times colder as she remembered the way she had left him, broken and bleeding at the foot of the castle. Could he see her now, she wondered? Was there even a place for Beasts in heaven? Surely he had to have a soul! God or whatever divine being up there had to see it. She wiped the tears from her eyes and wondered how many mornings she would be weeping like this before she finally put him behind her. She didn't want to put him behind her.

Belle was startled from her thoughts as she heard a series of whooping coughs coming from the room next to hers. "Papa!" she realized. Here she was, mourning for her best friend when the father she hadn't seen in six months was right beside her. She quickly threw off her covers and ran through the hall into his room.

"Belle," Maurice said with a raspy voice. "You're...alright. I'm so glad...so glad he didn't hurt you." It was all he managed to get out before several dry coughs escaped from his mouth. Belle placed a palm on his forehead to find it shockingly warm underneath.

"You have a fever," she frowned. It occurred to her that after all the time they'd spent out in the rain she hadn't even thought about getting him into some dry clothes when they came home. She immediately kicked herself for not thinking straight. Her father was old now. Something like this was bound to make him sick again.

"Oh don't you worry about me, Belle," Maurice said, seeing her distress. "This is nothing."

"At least let me make you something for that cough," she replied. As she made her down to the kitchen, she thought of Mrs. Potts and how she would know exactly what her Papa would need to feel better. Just thinking of her now, and Chip, and Lumiere and Cogsworth was enough to make her eyes water again. She hadn't said goodbye to any of them before she left. No thank yous for their months of service and hospitality, no parting words, nothing. Would they be thinking of her now as they took care of the Beast's body? Would they be wondering what had happened to her, if she would ever come back for them?

After a while of rummaging through the pantries (It was clear Maurice hadn't been stocking up much since his daughter's absence) Belle brewed together a quick tea and returned to her father's room. "I should get the doctor," she said once she had done a more thorough examination on him. Not only did he have a fever and a bad cough, but his blankets were growing damp with sweat. A part of her wondered whether if it would be a good idea to fetch him when half the village still believed her father was crazy, but she had to try.

Stepping out into the sunlight, Belle was soon approached by Tom, the village woodcutter, who had come with Gaston to the castle the night before. "Bonjour Belle," he said, grinning at her with crooked, yellow teeth.

"Good morning, monsieur," Belle replied nervously. "Excuse me."

"And where do you think you're going?"

"My father is sick; he has to see the doctor." She tried to manoeuvre around him, not wanting to waste a minute on conversation, but to her surprise, he stuck out his arm and held her back.

"Hold on there," he grinned as he pulled her towards him. "I can't let you out without a chaperone."

A look of confusion passed over her face. "What?"

"You heard Tom." Belle spun around to see Gaston step out from the side of the house along with LeFou and several of the other townsmen from the previous night. "If you want to leave this house," he continued as he took a confident stride towards her, "you have to agree to marry me."

Belle's mouth fell open in outrage. "But my father, he's sick!" she cried. "He might _die_ if he doesn't get help!"

"Or," Tom said with a grin, "he might die if you don't marry Gaston!"

She felt a small gasp fall from her throat. "You can't do this!"

"Come now, Belle. We've been through this already," said Gaston, who didn't hesitate at all in putting an arm around her waist. "It's simply _not done_ for a woman like yourself to be walking around town after the scene you caused last night. It makes people scared, see. I'd bet my own rifle that even the village doctor would say were a case beyond his cure! But..." he pulled her a bit closer towards him, "if you become my wife, I'll cover it all up. I'll make it so all those things go away; maybe even get rid of those nasty rumours for you. And all you'd have to say is one thing in return –"

"Forget it "

He rolled his eyes. "Have it your way. Let's see how you do taking care of the old man without his medicine. Take her back to the house."

"Wait!" Belle barely had time to break out of Gaston's grip before Dick and Stanley came stepped forward and dragged her back into the cottage. She only got one glimpse of Gaston, smiling at her with his arms crossed before they slammed the door on her, leaving her alone in the darkness. "No," she cried, slamming her fists against the door. "No!"

This couldn't be happening. First losing the Beast, now she couldn't even leave the house to get medicine for her sick father? Feeling overwhelmed, she slid her back against the door and wrapped her arms around her body. _You can't give in,_she told herself. _You just need to think of a plan._ A plan. The words echoed in her brain for an eternity. What plan did she have? The Beast was gone. There was no one outside the village to help her. She knew, despite her high spirits, that Gaston had her right into a corner. She was a prisoner all over again and this time there was no way escape. It was futile.

* * *

><p>"You know the drill boys," Gaston said once they'd thrown Belle back into the house. "Stand watch around the cottage and make sure she doesn't escape. And you two," he pointed to Dick and Stanley, "I have a special job for you. I want you two to go back to the castle and retrieve the Beast's body."<p>

Dick and Stanley both looked as though Gaston had just told them to walk over a pit of rabid wolves on a tightrope. They would watch over Gaston's fiancée no problem, but going to back to the castle? "You want us to go back to that creepy place?" Stanley said, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"But there's...possessed furniture in there!" Dick added shakily. "One of 'em almost kicked me in the – !"

"Dick!" Gaston shouted. "Stanley, both of you, listen to me. The Beast is dead, there's nothing else in that castle that can harm you."

"Sure Gaston," Stanley nodded. "But suppose -"

"Suppose nothing!" Gaston snapped. "That Beast is my finest kill, he's going to be the centrepiece of our wedding, and you two are not going to mess it up by acting like a couple of hooligans! Now get on out there and don't come back until you've found his body!"

The look on Gaston's face was so fierce that even the bravest man would be a fool to refuse him. Dick and Stanley muttered apologies as they stumbled back to hitch up the wagon. Gaston smiled as he watched them go.

It was only day one and everything was going according to plan.

* * *

><p><em>Something had changed.<em>

He could feel it in the wind; in the softness of the cloak nestled beneath him. He could feel it in his body, the way the air moved in and out of his chest.

He was alive.

He had been in pain before, but it was gone. Slowly, he lifted himself off the ground. His back legs weren't giving him the right support so he had to push himself up using his arms.

His arms. Something about this puzzled him. He opened his eyes to see a hand supporting the weight of his body. Two hands to be exact.

Curiously, he drew himself to full height and held them both out, five long fingers on each hand. He turned them over and two hairless palms were on the other side. They were real. They were really his hands.

His heart began to beat in anticipation. _Could it be?_ Moving his fingers down to his chest, he was shocked to feel smooth skin there, such an odd sensation next to the bristly fur coat he had worn for ten years. His clothes, which once fit him like a glove, now hung like limp rags around his body.

It had happened then. The spell was broken. He was a human!

But before he could celebrate in his freedom, the possibilities that were now open to him, and to Belle, he remembered something else. A blonde woman, smiling down at him as he lay dying in the rain, telling him that she was going to save him, that he'd he'd learned his lesson, that it wasn't his time to die. _The enchantress._

And just like that, his reveries crumbled into dust. It wasn't Belle's love that had broken the spell at all. It was pity, pity from the same woman who had cursed him, who had told him to find love, only to change him back herself when his time ran out. _Why?_ he wondered to himself. Why couldn't she just leave him in peace? He had spent a decade suffering under the curse, waiting, wishing for Belle to come along and save him. And now she was gone and he would never see her again. He didn't want this, he didn't want to live!

The edge of the ravine was only a few feet away. He thought of how easy it would be. No one outside the castle knew he was alive as far as he was concerned. It would be quick, painless. He didn't feel the slightest bit of fear as he took the first few steps toward the edge, the wind beginning to pick up speed as it blew his human hair past his face…

_"Hello? Hello!"_

The prince jumped backwards and landed on his backside, just managing to grab on to an embedded piece of rock to prevent himself from sliding over the edge. Was that a child's voice he had just heard?

_"Let me outta here!"_

He sat there for a moment, puzzled, before deciding that this voice might be worth taking a few minutes to investigate. His human feet did not have as much grip on the rocks as his Beast-self once did, but through a great deal of upper body strength he finally managed to hoist himself on to the grass. There was nothing on the grounds except for a brown satchel lying close to the viaduct, _and it was moving._

Curiously, he approached the discarded bag and after a great deal of fumbling as a result of his new hands, opened the clasp. Out popped a small tea cup with a crack in its side. "Chip?" he said in surprise.

"Uh oh," Chip replied, cringing. It occurred to the prince that this was the first human Chip had seen since Belle and her father had come to the castle, so he had to be mindful not to frighten him. He carefully lifted him up so they were staring at each other at eye level.

"Chip," he said, jumping slightly under the unnaturally high voice he now spoke in. "It's me, your master."

Chip stared the prince for a long time. _"Master?"_ he repeated, eyes growing wide. He'd been too young to remember what the prince looked like before the curse, but he had seen a portrait of him in the West Wing once with Belle. The resemblance was almost uncanny. "But if you're human now, doesn't that mean I should be a boy again?"

"I don't know, Chip," the prince replied. And truthfully he didn't. Why had the enchantress changed him back and not his servants? Was the curse still in effect for them and not for him? "What happened?" he asked instead.

"Well," Chip began. "Everybody was sad that Belle was leaving, so I snuck back with her to the village. Then she found these bad people who wanted to lock her father up, so she showed them the mirror. And then they wanted to go to the castle to kill _you_ so they locked _her _up but I managed to get the door open with..."

"No, Chip. I meant, what are you doing here?"

"Oh! Well we were coming to rescue you," Chip replied. "It was all Belle could talk about when I got the cellar open."

"Rescue me?" the prince repeated. A new realization was dawning on him. "You mean...she came back?"

"Well yeah," he nodded. "She wanted to warn you that the mob was coming after all."

But the former Beast wasn't listening. Something was happening to him, something that caused his heart to race and his mouth to lift up into an uncontrollable smile. Belle had come back to the castle! She'd been here all along! Maybe she was looking for him right now! Quickly, he grabbed Chip with one hand, the satchel with the other and made his way inside.

"Lumiere, Cogsworth!" he exclaimed as he bolted through the front doors, nearly slipping across the marble floor in his bare feet.

"Not my son, you scurvy scum!" Mrs. Potts shouted from behind him. There was a loud whooshing noise. Instinctively, the young man ducked in time to miss a swinging bucket of water from colliding with the side of his head.

"Again, _mes amis!"_ Lumiere shouted from the side of the atrium. "Let us show this invader who is boss!"

The prince wondered if his servants were fooling around or just being stupid. "Enough!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the room. "It's me!"

Whether it was the fierce blue eyes or the familiar loudness of his voice, all of the servants stopped their attacks and stared at the prince in disbelief. "Master?" Lumiere was the first to say. "You are a human again! But that means..."

"Where is Belle?" the prince asked, standing up as Chip left his hand to join his mother. His servants blinked back at him, looking dumbstruck. Frustrated, he repeated the question.

"We don't know, master," Mrs. Potts answered. "We thought she would be with you."

"Well she clearly isn't. Search the castle for her at once!" They were wasting precious time already. What if those people from the mob had hurt her? What they had tortured her into revealing the whereabouts of the Beast? If something bad had happened to Belle because of him, he knew he would never forgive himself!

"Wait, master!" said a voice. Out from the crowd stepped Fife, panting heavily. "I know where she is," he gasped, his eyes growing wide. "I saw him go with her."

"Who, _mon ami?" _Lumiere frowned.

Fife twisted his two padded hands together nervously. "That big man in the red shirt, the one who was leading the mob," he began. "He was riding with Belle and her father back into the forest!" No sooner had he confessed this than he let out an agitated whistle from his head joint. All the servants covered their ears in displeasure.

"Come now," Cogsworth said shakily. "That – well, that can't possibly be right."

He turned to Lumiere and Mrs. Potts, hoping they could clarify, but their understanding of what had happened after the attack was just as vague as the majordomo's. None of them could say they knew much about Belle's life outside the castle to know where she had gone, and the relationship she had to the red-shirted man escaped them entirely.

The only person it did make sense to was the prince.

Of course, he had suspected right from the beginning that Belle had been courted back at her village. With a girl as beautiful as her, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been asked to dance by at least a dozen boys at every town social she attended. Only recently had he stopped thinking about that, stopped because...because not thinking of it made him feel less of a monster, made easier to think he had a chance with her. For a time he had even convinced himself that he _did_ have a chance.

But not anymore. Now that she had left him a second time, he realized that he had been wrong, wrong about everything.

"_Belle despises you. She sent me to kill you."_

He could picture it in his head, just like in the fairy tales she used to read him: the hunter slaying the Beast as Belle rode to make sure he was alright, tending to his wounds as they rode back to the village, talking about how brave he was. He could picture her embracing him, apologizing for ever leaving him, maybe even _kissing _him...the very thought of someone else being able to kiss her was enough to make him feel sick. And what pained him even more, was knowing that she had every right to do so. She was his prisoner no longer.

_How I have been such a fool?_ he wondered to himself. All this time, he'd been lying to himself. He was not the hero, but the villain, the dragon holding the princess captive from her knight in shining armour, Hades taking Persephone to live with him in his underworld; Paris, betrothed to Juliet when all she really wanted was to be in the arms of her beloved Romeo. He was the captive, the monster, nothing more. _And yet, the enchantress let me live. Why?_

"There must be some kind of misunderstanding," Lumiere said as he comforted Fife, who was now bawling his eyes out.

"There isn't one," said the prince, and his voice was thick with sorrow, his hands clenching themselves into fists. "She's moved on. She's chosen someone else."

And as soon as he said it, he couldn't bear to be in his servants' presence any longer. He ran up the main staircase leading up to the West Wing, ignoring their shouts of surprise, feeling as though his heart was breaking all over again.

If fate was any kinder it might have just let him fall into the ravine in the first place.


	4. Agony

"LeFou, what's taking so long?" Gaston asked impatiently.

"Coming!" LeFou replied. Picking up the tray of tankards, he stumbled across the room, sloshing beer on the floor as he parked himself beside Gaston's large, fur throne. Gaston picked up the first glass, draining it in one gulp.

"Ah, isn't it great, LeFou?" he said as he dropped the cup back on the tray and stretched his hands behind his back. "Give it one, maybe two more days and Belle's going to be mine, for keeps."

LeFou tried his best to look pleased as he handed him his second beer. "You really think this plan is going to work then, Gaston?" he asked.

He wasn't sure why he had said it, but the question had been biting at him for sometime. Ever since Gaston had set up his ultimatum with Belle, he'd been nothing but smiles, hardly speaking to LeFou or anyone else as he sat pensively in front of the fireplace. It was difficult to judge, but LeFou thought Gaston was doing way too much _thinking _for his own good and he wasn't sure if he liked this very much. Thinking, after all, was a dangerous pass time, which could only lead to dangerous ideas, and wasn't that exactly what Gaston wanted to stamp out of Belle by marrying her?

Gaston was hardly insulted by LeFou's question as he finished off his second beer. LeFou was always asking stupid questions anyway. He had earned the name of "the fool" for a reason. "Of course LeFou!" he replied as he dropped the flagon on the tray with a loud _clank._ "If there's one thing I know about Belle, it's that she's not stupid. Deep down inside, she _knows _that marrying me is the right thing to do. I'm just giving her a chance to come to her senses. A point in the right direction."

LeFou wanted to point out that keeping a girl in her house until she agreed to marry him sounded a bit more than a "point in the right direction," but thought it best to keep quiet so he wouldn't get another punch to the face. Instead, he confessed something that had been on his mind for a while. "But her father's pretty sick...what if he dies?"

Gaston almost snorted beer through his nose from laughing so hard. "Oh LeFou, you are _hilarious!"_ he replied. "Belle will be _begging _to marry me before anything like _that _happens. You saw how _desperate _she was to save the old man from the asylum last night. And once the boys bring back the Beast's body and she realizes her father's the only one left for her, she'll do _anything_ to keep him alive. And what an easier way to do that, than to stop resisting and marry me? She's clearly the best girl for the job, and don't I deserve the best?"

His voice was so full of buoyancy, LeFou was afraid of what would happen if he said no. He nodded his head in agreement.

"It will all work out LeFou, you'll see. Now stop asking questions and get me some more beer!"

"Sure thing, Gaston!"

As LeFou returned to the counter, he couldn't help thinking about what Gaston had just told him. He didn't want to admit it, but his ideas of winning Belle were beginning to scare him a bit. Gaston had always enjoyed the challenge of hunting a difficult prey, but gambling Maurice's life so Belle would marry him? It seemed a bit extreme, not that LeFou was questioning his character of course. Gaston was the greatest, and LeFou was only his lackey. And come to think of it, maybe _he _was the one who was thinking too much, not Gaston. Did it really matter how he got Belle to marry him? The point was, he would get her, and once he did, things would be all good and normal again.

He walked over to the barrel and started filling up the tankards. Gaston was his hero! He could never be wrong, could he?

* * *

><p>The brightness of the West Wing looked so jarring after the ten years he'd spent in darkness. Sunlight crept in through the windows, reflecting off the newly polished floor and casting diffused shadows behind the furniture he'd knocked over the night before. Just as he had done for the past ten years, the former Beast walked to the bell jar, wanting to look at the one thing that bound him to his curse – the rose. Only it was gone now. As he approached the table, he could see that its pink glow was absent, the stem fallen on top of the last of the petals, petals he thought bitterly, he'd wasted on her.<p>

He placed a hand over the glass and closed his eyes. If he thought hard enough, he could almost see her standing there in her golden ball gown, clutching the mirror in her hands.

"_Then...then you must go to him," he said._

"_What did you say?"_

"_I release you. You are no longer my prisoner."_

_He heard her gasp. "You mean...I'm free?"_

"_Yes." His voice cracked and he wondered for a moment if the separation would be as heartbreaking for her as it was for him, but when he turned around her eyes were already back on the mirror, her thoughts on the man within it._

"_Oh, thank you. Hold on, Papa. I'm on my way."_

She barely gave him a second glance as she left the room. Perhaps she was so overjoyed to know she'd be seeing her father again, she'd already forgotten the Beast. Perhaps she was too busy thinking of the plans of revenge she would share with her hunter, she was happy to leave him alone to suffer.

_You brought this pain upon yourself, _the prince told himself firmly. _You set her free._

_But you didn't think she'd betray you like that, did you? You gave her your most prized possession. You _trusted_ her._

Yes, he had trusted Belle. He had practically given her _everything_ that night! So where had he gone wrong? For the first time in four months, Forte's words came back, and he wondered if maybe he had been right all along, that love _had _made him weak. Perhaps he'd been so blinded by hope, he'd failed to see that Belle had been manipulating him. Perhaps he'd been so infatuated by her, he'd failed to realize that it wasn't pity she was harbouring for him, but hatred.

Not that he could blame her, of course. He _had_ imprisoned her for six months. He just thought she was different. He thought she would understand.

"Master, what is going on?" The prince turned around to see Lumiere, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts enter the room. "Belle can't have 'chosen someone else' if she broke the spell!"

"It wasn't love that broke the spell, Lumiere," the prince replied sombrely. "It was the enchantress."

With that, he told them about his battle with the hunter on the roof and how the enchantress had appeared before his death, saying she was going to save him and turn him back into a human. Just remembering the events of that night brought an even bigger question to mind. What had the enchantress intended by lifting his curse? What "door" could possibly be open to him now that Belle was gone from his life, forever?

"Well, I do not think that is so hard to figure out," said Lumiere, once he'd gotten over the fact that his master would have _died _had the enchantress not intervened. "Obviously the enchantress intends for you to bring Belle back to the castle so you can both confess your love for one another and she may undo the rest of the curse."

"No!" the prince exclaimed. Bringing Belle back to the castle was the _last _thing he wanted after all the pain he'd put her through. "I let her go. I can't bring her back here. I can't force her to fall in love with me, not again." _Besides, she already has _that man._ She doesn't need me._

"But you _love_ her, don't you?" Cogsworth asked tenderly.

The prince looked down at the bell jar, where he saw his blue eyes reflected in the glass, looking so strange to belong to a human face. "I did," he replied softly. "And that's why it's best if I just let her be."

The servants could think of nothing to say in reply. For over ten years they had managed their way around their master's temper, but when he was in this state of despondency there was only so much they could say, and it wouldn't change a thing. It was as though they were touching a brick wall, a wall that only Belle, in all her wisdom, had the ability to tear down.

"But then...what about the enchantment?" Lumiere tried asking instead. "True, I do not mind all this weight loss, but Cogsworth and the rest of us have been _waiting _to be human again!"

"If I had a choice," the prince said, still not taking his eyes off the table, "I would have asked the enchantress to let me remain a Beast, and to lift the curse on you. But...,"

His voice trailed off as he heard two male voices echoing out from the grounds up to his shattered window.

"Who...is _that?"_ he asked irritably. Last he checked, his castle was not a place for strangers to wander around in as they so pleased. He walked out to the balcony, and his servants followed suit.


	5. Conflict

"Yep, something was definitely dying here," Dick was saying as he examined the bloodstains on the grass. "But it's only here...after that, there's nothing."

"Maybe he's still alive?" Stanley suggested.

Dick shook his head. "He can't have gone far, not without something to stop the bleeding. Here, hold the rope for me. I'm gonna get a closer look."

As Dick climbed down the rocks to find any more clues to the whereabouts of the Beast's body, Stanley paced the lawn nervously. He hated being here after the ambush; the whole place gave him the creeps. He heard a whispering noise and spun around, half-expecting something to come jumping out at him, but all he could see was row of stone gargoyles on the parapet above him, bows and arrows carved in their hands. He sighed and shook his head. He'd already accepted that there was such a thing as animated furniture after last night, but once he started believing he could hear statues talking...well he might as well just hand himself over to the _Maison des Lunes_ right now.

"Say, Dick," he said, offhandedly. "Do you think Gaston is being a little bit overprotective of Belle? I mean he's practically locking her in her house until she agrees to marry him."

"Bah," Dick replied. "Women need to learn their place, that's what my pop always told me. Besides, that Belle has always been a funny one. And after last night, I think it's about time she got a husband to settle her down and talk a little sense into her."

"That's true," Stanley hesitated. "But...and don't get me wrong on this, Dick...I think Gaston's been acting a bit funny too. I mean, did you see how scary he was last night? Usually he's loads of fun to be around. But after he saw that Beast in the mirror...I mean, it was like he became a different person. And, I don't know, I think I like the fun Gaston better than the angry one."

Dick chuckled loudly at that. "There you go again, Stan. And you wonder why Tom's always calling you out for acting like a woman? You worry way too much. Besides, if you weren't so drunk last night, you'd remember it was Belle who showed Gaston that mirror in the first place. She was the one who got him angry. He'll be in a much better mood when she finally drops all that balderdash about the Beast and agrees to marry him."

"Well I just hope you're right," Stanley said with a shrug. He wanted to say more on the subject, but Dick was probably right. There was no use getting worked up over what was clearly just one woman's fault. Still, he was having trouble understanding exactly _why_ Gaston still wanted to marry Belle after all this trouble. There were plenty of women in town who adored Gaston and weren't nearly as crazy. What was it about Belle that made Gaston so obsessed with her?

Stanley's chain of thought was broken as he heard a noise behind him. Turning around, he saw that the gargoyle statues had shifted their positions, their bows pointed down at him and Dick. He widened his eyes; it looked like they were about to –

"Dick!" he screamed. "LOOK OUT!"

There was a whizzing sound as the gargoyles released their arrows. In the confusion, Dick almost fell down into the ravine, saving himself only by pressing his feet into the rocks and grabbing on the rope just in time. "What in blazes is going on up there?!" he shouted.

"It's the castle!" Stanley cried. "It's still possessed! It's attacking us! _Dieu,_ I've had it! I knew this was a bad idea. Let's get out of here!" He dropped the rope and ran back to the wagon faster than a minnow could swim in a dipper.

"Wait, Stanley!" Dick pushed himself back on to the grass just as one of the enchanted gargoyles used the moment to fire an arrow into his unprotected backside. He jumped five feet in the air, and then he too, was running back to the wagon, cursing and howling in pain the entire way.

* * *

><p>"<em>Sacrebleu,<em> I didn't even know we had those," Lumiere said as he watched the intruders hop into their wagon and ride back into the woods.

"What very strange men," Mrs. Potts agreed. "It sounds as though they came from Belle's village. Do you think it's true what they're saying, that she's being forced to stay at her house?"

"If it is, it can't exactly be a happy marriage," Cogsworth noted. "Belle could be in very great danger. What do you think, master? Master?"

"What?" the prince snapped. He was already making his way inside, much to their surprise.

"Did you hear – ?" Cogsworth asked.

"I heard everything, Cogsworth. She's getting married."

"Yes, but –,"

"But what?" He swung around to face him. "Just because she might be in trouble, you expect me to run in like a prince –," he paused, "a _hero,_ and save her? Forget it! She marries that man, that's _her_ problem. I let her go; she's not my responsibility anymore."

There was a stunned silence between the three servants, only broken by Mrs. Potts as she took an extra step up towards the master. "What in heaven's name is wrong with you? You cannot mean that you intend to _nothing _to help? Why if Belle were in your situation –"

"How can we know what Belle would do in my situation, Mrs. Potts?" he shot back. "In case you haven't realized she _betrayed _me. She sent that man to kill me! And the only thing she regrets now is the extra throw rug she'll be missing on her _wedding night!_"

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed back into the West Wing. He hadn't meant to yell like that, but the words had spilled out of him almost uncontrollably. Was he being selfish for being angry at her? He hadn't expected her to think of him everyday when he let her go, but then again, he hadn't expected she'd move on from him so _quickly _either. Why couldn't he be glad that she was doing something in her life that made her happy? Why couldn't he let her go?

_"Belle? Are you…happy here with me?"_

"_Yes."_

"Master?" Lumiere said once he and the others had caught up with the prince. "It is not that we don't care about how you feel about the girl…but might we remind you that you are basing your assumptions of last night on only _two_ stories?"

"Three," Cogsworth corrected.

"Three, thank you," he nodded. "One which comes from a boy a third your age, another which comes from two men who I must say are not exactly bright, and another which comes from a servant who only saw what happened from a distance?"

"The fact is," added Mrs. Potts, "if you keep jumping to conclusions like this, you may never know what really happened to Belle, let alone why the enchantress decided to break the spell in the first place."

"And," Lumiere lifted up his two candlelit arms, "who knows? Maybe she didn't send that hunter to kill you at all. Maybe it was a misunderstanding, or there was an emergency she had to take care of."

"All we are asking is that you try thinking things through, just for a moment," said Cogsworth. "If not for her, then, maybe…for us?"

The prince looked at his three servants and sighed. It wasn't that he _didn't_ care that his household was still cursed. He would gladly trade his humanity for them if he could. But to bring Belle back into the equation? Even if they were right, that Belle wasn't in love with _that man_ he couldn't just barge in on her life after letting her go. She didn't love him, she hadn't saved him, heck in this form it wouldn't even be worth trying to win her love again because she wouldn't even know who he was!

Suddenly, the prince noticed that there was something glistening on the floor amongst the broken glass from his windowpane. He squinted under the light to see it was a hand mirror, the same one he'd given to Belle last night. _The hunter must have brought it with him and left it here,_ he thought bitterly. If he needed any more proof of Belle's betrayal, he was sure he had found it there.

He picked it up, wanting nothing more than to throw it off the balcony and rid himself of the wretched memories, when he noticed his servants staring at him in the reflection. To the average eye, they were nothing more than a candelabrum, a grandson clock and a teapot, but he remembered they had been human, just as he had been once. All these years they had done so much for him and were asking for so little in return. Was it really so hard to _try _to help them, at least? He exhaled deeply.

"Show me Belle."

The reflection of the mirror flashed green under his command and melted away to reveal a dimly lit room. Belle was sitting at a table, alone, her head buried in her arms, her body shaking up and down in a wave of deep sobs. It was both shocking and unbearable to watch. In that moment, the prince realized that it didn't matter what reason said, all he knew was that Belle, the love of his life was crying and he wanted desperately to slip through that glass and do whatever possible to make her happy again.

_She was so happy when she was here. If she's getting married, then why does she look so miserable?_

_Why does it matter?_ a voice in his head retorted. She deserved her fate. She'd left him, she'd betrayed him. And yet, as he looked at his servants, waiting anxiously for him to make a decision, and as he looked in the mirror, the disturbing image of Belle flashing before his eyes, he knew they were right. He couldn't think like this. Not anymore. Heart and head were in a fight. Heart was winning.

"I have to help her," he said finally as he turned away from the mirror. "Or at least make sure she's all right." His face fell. "But I don't know how to get there."

"Well actually, master," Cogsworth said, relieved at the prince's change of heart. "We know of something that might be _just the thing_ for you."


	6. Black

The prince couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the stables. It certainly hadn't been during the curse. Any travelling he had done outside the castle had been on foot, and all the horses had been freed early into the enchantment when the staff realized they would be of no use to them in their current forms. The only horse that had lived here recently was Belle's horse, Philippe, but it was not Philippe Lumiere and Cogsworth wanted to show the master as they led him to the last stall in the stable.

There, grazing over a patch of hay was a handsome Arabian Palomino, and the master was surprised, not only because it was there, but because he knew this horse.

_"Magnifique?"_ The name rolled off his tongue like a forgotten language. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't uttered that name in over ten years now. But he remembered now as he glanced over his golden coat and white mane. This was Magnifique, his most prized possession, the last birthday present he had received from his parents before they died.

"Ah yes, Magnifique," Lumiere said from where he stood watching from an overturned water bucket. "You used to take him out everyday into the woods. You were like brothers, the two of you."

"But how did he come back?" he asked incredulously. "He ran away over ten years ago."

"The stable keeper told us this morning that a horse had just walked into the stables," Cogsworth explained. "No explanation or anything. Just appeared. _Poof."_

Puzzled by this fact, the former Beast took a step towards the old steed. Had the enchantress brought him back knowing he needed some way of getting to the village? He reached out to touch his nose, and Magnifique immediately whinnied and jumped back in fright. "Whoa!" the prince exclaimed, taking a step backwards. "What's the matter with him?"

"Nothing is the matter with him, master," Lumiere replied, matter-of-factly. "Remember, horses are sensitive creatures, just like women. Move too quickly and you scare them off."

For a moment, the prince wanted to retort that as master, he shouldn't have to bend to the will of his own horse to get him to do what he wanted. But then he remembered that that selfish attitude was what had caused him to lose him in the first place. He wiped some sweat off his brow (he could sweat now?) and took a step forward.

"Magnifique, listen," he said to him gently. "I know I mistreated you before, but someone I care about might be in trouble and I have to make sure she's alright. And you're the only one who can take me there."

Magnifique snorted and turned his head away indifferently.

"Please?" And then, thinking of something Belle might say, he added: _"I'm sorry."_

Magnifique's ears perked up at those last words. Had his master actually said that to him? He turned to look at him and noticed that he looked a lot different now; he was a lot bigger now, a lot taller. And there was something about his face. It was no longer mean and haughty-looking, but sad and serious.

Slowly, he walked up to him. He sniffed him, and after a moment of contemplating, pressed his velvety nose against his hand. The prince responded by stroking the side of his mane (which took a lot less reaching than it used to) and whispering in his ear: "Thank you." It seemed his horse had forgiven him, for now.

"Master, allow the stable keepers to get Magnifique ready for the journey," Cogsworth interrupted. "In the meantime, we should think about getting you into a change of clothes. You cannot go out to Belle's home looking like that."

The prince saw his point. The baggy, tattered, bloodstained clothes he wore now would not exactly help him blend into a village. "Very well."

He gave Magnifique a pat on the shoulder, indicating he would return for him, then followed his servants back to the castle.

* * *

><p>In a spare bedroom in the North Wing of the castle, the servants began to lay out some human-sized clothes for the prince. He suspected many of them belonged to his father once, but he couldn't be certain. It had been a long time since he'd seen his father in person, after all.<p>

At first he first tried on a blue coat similar to the one he had worn the night before, but after looking at himself in the mirror, he knew he couldn't wear it. It fit him perfectly, but something about it felt _wrong_ and he couldn't understand why. As a Beast, he had always dreamed of the day that the clothes he wore would match the man he was inside. But here he was, the spitting image of a twenty-one year old prince, and seeing himself dressed so formally made him feel like was masquerading as someone else, like he was a stranger in the Beast's clothes rather than a man in a prince's clothes.

Frowning, he took off the jacket and rummaged through the rest of the garments until he came across a pair of black britches, cotton shirt, and travelling cloak with a large hood to conceal his face. He could be anyone in this outfit. It was comfortable, less flashy, it did not say anything about him.

He'd just fastened on the cloak when Cogsworth entered the room, looking quite startled to see the master dressed in such a manner. "Oh, your grace! We have nicer clothes than that. Have you tried –?"

"I'm not making a public speech, Cogsworth," the prince replied, cutting him off. "France thinks I'm dead, remember? I'm just going to a village."

"Yes...," Cogsworth hesitated, "but what about Belle? How is she going to recognize you?"

"She _isn't_ going to recognize me, Cogsworth, that's the point. She shouldn't even know I'm there."

"But aren't you going to tell her the truth?" He raised his eyebrows, confused.

The prince shook his head. "What good would the truth do, Cogsworth? I've already taken six months of her life away from her. How do you think she'd feel if she knew she was supposed to fall in love with me just so I could be human? She'd be scarred forever. No, it's best if she lives a normal life and forgets that any of this ever happened."

There was a very heavy expression on Cogsworth's face at his master's words. For a moment, he considered telling him his thoughts: that Belle was strong enough to handle the truth about the curse on her own. But if he said it he might send him into a temper, or else change his mind about rescuing her. He gently cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Mrs. Potts will be up soon with some food. You should eat, and then perhaps you should consider spending the night here before you head out. You'll make better progress finding the village when you have more daylight to travel by."

The prince looked out the window, surprised to see that the sun was already beginning to set behind the trees in the forest. Had it really only been a day since he'd set up that romantic dinner with Belle? It felt like it had happened eons ago.

* * *

><p>Sleep did not come easily for the prince that night. Everything felt strange. The bed seemed too big, his body felt too sensitive. Every time he moved he was acutely aware of the way his hair rubbed against the back of his neck, or the way his hands and feet rubbed against the bed sheets.<p>

"_Would Belle have loved me if she'd met me like this?_" he wondered to himself. Until yesterday, he had thought so. He had faced so many limitations as a Beast, being a human was like an answer to all those problems; like King Arthur finding the Holy Grail or Odysseus returning to Ithaca after battling Trojans and sea monsters for over ten years.

But now, he realized exactly how stupid it was to think that way. Being a human couldn't solve everything. There were so many flaws he hadn't considered, and the end of his story could have been unhappy as much as it could have been happy. If Belle was in love with that hunter already, would it have really mattered what the prince looked like to her? The more he thought about it, maybe he shouldn't have felt sad over what he'd lost, but grateful. Grateful that she had changed him. Grateful that she had given him the chance to perform one act of kindness, even if she would never understand the extent of what he'd sacrificed for her.

After all, true love, just like beauty, was in the things that people _didn't _see. It was a mermaid sacrificing her immortality for a prince, Prometheus spending thousands of years chained and eaten alive for giving men fire, Belle giving up her freedom to save her father, and a Beast giving up his chance at humanity so that she could return to him. Best to accept that that was all he needed to do for her, and ask for nothing more.

But despite telling himself this, he couldn't hide everything and he fell asleep imagining her lying there beside him, caressing her with a gentle intimacy only a human hand could provide.

* * *

><p>The next morning the servants walked with the prince and his horse to the castle's front gates. They had spent the night before packing food, coins, blankets and other supplies into Magnifique's saddlebags in case the journey to the village ended up taking longer than expected.<p>

"Master?" Lumiere said just before he headed out. "I just want you to know that your happiness has always come before ours. If you find Belle and you wish to stay with her—"

"I've had my chance to know what love is like, Lumiere," the prince replied curtly. "I've learned to be selfless, I've learned let go, and now, I must learn to live without her."

"What will you do after you've helped the girl?" asked Cogsworth.

"I'll return here, and find a way to break the curse. And then...rebuild the throne if possible." He suddenly had a vision of seeing Belle standing in the crowd during one of his public speeches, but best not get his hopes up. It wasn't like she would know who he was anyway.

"_Dieu vous bénisse_, master," Lumiere said finally. "And be careful."

"Thank you, Lumiere. I'll be back...soon." With that, he mounted his horse and after consulting the magic mirror for bearings, rode out of the front gates. None of the servants could suppress their worry as they watched their master disappear into the forest.

"I don't like this, Lumiere," Cogsworth said once the prince was out of eyesight. "One of us should have gone with him."

"They just have to be together Mama!" Chip said as he bounded up and down on the spot. "I'm telling the truth, Belle was trying to _save_ him!"

"I know love, I know. But we have to leave it in his hands now."

"Oh master," Lumiere said, shaking his head sadly. "Belle _does_ love you. You just won't _let yourself see it._"

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure how long she'd been trapped here now. It might have been a couple of days, but to her it felt more like weeks. All she knew was that they were running out of food, and fast. She'd resorted to just giving her father water, but even then he was growing weaker and paler and was responding to her less and less.<p>

Many times she'd begged for the men outside to let her get some medicine, but Gaston had trained them well, and they wouldn't move an inch. His proposal was still open to her like a bone being waved in front of a starving dog, but she refused to take it. She would never give Gaston the satisfaction, not after what he did to the Beast. But conversely, it was much harder to stand her ground when her father was so ill, knowing it was her fault and she couldn't do anything to help him.

In the hours when her father was awake, Belle would try to lighten the mood by telling him about her adventures in the castle, about Lumiere, Cogsworth, Chip and Mrs. Potts. Of course, it was hard for her to bring up any stories about the Beast. His life had ended so abruptly. Whenever she recalled his face, his eyes, the things they used to do together, it felt as though he was still alive, which saddened her more when she knew that he wasn't.

Although she never talked about his death directly, it didn't take long for Maurice to realize that something was different about his daughter. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked her once.

Belle looked at her father and nodded. "Yes, Papa, I do. I would have gone back to him when you were better, but things happened so suddenly, I..." And then her eyes glossed over and she began to cry again. While books might have been able to take her off to far off places and wondrous adventures, there were some things no one could ever put words to, and grief was just one of them.

And now she was haunted by questions. In all the months she'd spent with the Beast she'd never asked him the simplest things: where had he come from? What was his name? It hadn't mattered at the time but now she madly pondered over those things, wondering if filling in those missing blanks could have made things end differently, if they could have saved him, prevented him from dying the way he did. Between nights of weeping over his memory, praying religiously for his salvation and caring for her father, she collected the details she'd never asked him about: the enchanted rose, the painting of the boy hanging on the wall...

"_Belle? Belle! Where are you?"_

_The shadows of the West Wing snaked around her feet, the furniture groaning and warping as she walked towards the enchanted rose. Someone was calling her name, but she didn't know who, and she was frightened._

_Suddenly, a chilling wind blew through the window. Through the bell jar she could see a figure standing out on the balcony: a man, a tall man, with shoulder-length red hair, his back turned to her as he looked out to the stormy sky._

_"Belle," he said to her in a soft voice. "I've tried everything, but why won't you do it? Why won't you _free_ me?"_

_Her mouth hung open, mind reeling with questions, but in the end she could only ask one: "Who are you?"_

_She was inches away from touching him, when something grabbed her sharply and spun her around. She found herself staring into the eyes of the Beast. But this was not the same kind and gentle Beast from before, but one who was monstrous, savage, his fur matted with blood, the blue completely gone from his eyes, replaced with an empty white. "What are you doing here?" he growled, and she was frightened for he seemed to grow even larger in height as he spoke._

"_Get out! GET OUT!"_

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Belle awoke to find herself in the armchair in her father's room. She pressed her eyes to her hands, trying to remember the dream she had just had, but already the details were slipping away as quickly as raindrops trickling down a windowpane. All she remembered was that there had been the rose, the Beast, and a man, a man whose desperation seemed to cut to the very core of her, if only she knew what he had wanted from her. Her train of thought was broken as she heard someone yelling from outside the window.

"What do you mean you couldn't find the body?" Gaston jeered at Dick and Stanley.

"We tried Gaston, we really did!" Stanley stuttered. "But he just _wasn't there _anymore."

"How could he not be there anymore? I killed him myself! You can't just tell me the body _walked off on its own._"

"Well actually, Gaston –,"

But at that moment the hunter's attention was drawn to Monsieur Bouquin, the village bookseller, who was approaching the front of Belle's house with a basket in hand. "What are you doing here, old man?" he asked him suspiciously. No one was supposed to come here except him and his men. That was the rule.

"Giving Belle and her father some food," replied the book lender. "You may have half the village on your side, but what you are doing to Belle is completely amoral."

Gaston's dark brows sunk down in anger. "Amoral, huh?" he said to him coolly. "And who's the one who's been putting 'amoral' thoughts into poor Belle's head, I wonder? You know, I always told her that it's not right for a woman to read. But it's people _of your trade_ who are always encouraging her and filling her head up with _ideas_. It's because of you that we're all standing here, trying to save her from the asylum! Well we're going to have to set things right now, aren't we, boys?"

He made a signal with his fingers. Before M. Bouquin could react one of the men snatched the basket from his hands and threw it to the floor. Another man kicked him to the ground, causing him to land face forward into the dirt, the glass of his spectacles shattering as they fell off his nose.

"No, stop!" Belle shouted. In an instant she flew down the steps of her house and helped the book keeper to his feet. "Are you alright?" she asked in concern.

"Belle, why did you come back here?" M. Bouquin hissed. "You and your father should have left town when you still had the chance!"

"Please, M. Bouquin, go home." She immediately felt a pang of guilt. Not only was her father sick, and the Beast dead, but now _other_ people in the village were getting hurt because of her. She bit her lip as she weighed her options. She knew she would _never_ forgive Gaston for what he did to the Beast. But then again, if she married him, her father would be able to see the doctor, and M. Bouquin would be safe. Was it really worth defending the memory of one person if it only caused other people she cared about to get hurt? She brushed a strand of hair from her face anxiously. It was clear now what she had to do.

"Gaston," she said, turning around to face him. "I'll do it. I'll marry you."

Gaston raised an eyebrow at her, unsure if he had heard her correctly. "Come again, Belle?"

"I'll marry you, Gaston Légume," she repeated. "You have my word."

There was a stunned look on the hunter's face as he absorbed the value of these words, followed by a sickening smile of triumph. "Well, why are you all still standing here?" he snapped at the men around him. "You heard my _wife._ Tell the clergyman to get a sermon ready, tell the baker to get some food ready, oh yes...and the doctor for the old man." He chuckled at the last order, as though helping a lunatic was something he found to be more entertaining than ethical.

Belle could barely focus as the men left the house to do these things. Had she really just agreed to marry him? _Gaston?_ She heard him stride towards her now; lifting her head up towards him so she was staring right into his cold, blue eyes. "Now that wasn't so hard was it, Belle?" he sneered. "It was a hard hunt, but I always knew you'd be mine." And before she could even get a word in, he kissed her boldly, pulling her towards him, sliding his tongue right into her mouth.

And from several miles away, she could just imagine the Beast rolling in his grave, cold, alone, knowing that the one person who still remembered him was about to be lost to the same man who had taken his life away from him.


	7. Trouble

The journey to Belle's village wasn't easy. Navigating the forest was straightforward enough; the prince practically knew it from the back of his head from hunting in it for ten years. But the countryside proved to be more difficult as he'd never travelled outside the castle alone before. The magic mirror didn't help much either as it could only show him major landmarks leading to the village but not a way of getting to them. Sometimes he'd go one way, only to check the mirror to see a bridge or farm he'd passed before, causing him to throw his hands up in frustration as he realized he'd gone the wrong way.

With all these set-backs in direction, it was mid-afternoon by the time he and Magnifique reached the village.

"We're just coming here to check on Belle, Magnifique," he explained as he stuffed the mirror in his saddlebag. "After that we're going to find the enchantress and convince her to break the spell on the servants." Just thinking of where he could find her seemed like a daunting if not impossible task. Enchantresses didn't make themselves available to people at will after all. It might be _ages_ before he found out where she was.

The main street of Belle's town, named _Molyneaux_ according to a nearby sign, was bordered by quaint houses and tiny shops. It looked no different from any other village the prince had seen as a boy, yet he felt a certain thrill pass over him as he watched people buy and sell things in the street. After ten years of being confined in his castle he'd almost forgotten how _wonderful_ it was to be among people who weren't enchanted objects. He knew he would never take a moment like this for granted ever again.

It wasn't until he rode further into the town that he realized people were staring at him. True, he wasn't a Beast anymore, but he was still a stranger to the village, a stranger with a horse and outfit far too conspicuous to belong to a simple traveller. A couple of boys pointed at him curiously as he passed them by. Three identical blonde ladies batted their lashes at him as they collected water from a nearby water pump. He waved a hand at them sheepishly before he realized what he was doing and shook his head.

_I need to find Belle!_ Turning away from the girls, he scanned the signs of the shops in front of him: _Boulangerie, Café, Argent, Librairie_ – bookstore! If there was any place Belle went to shop at in the village, it had to be there. He found a post by the corner to tie Magnifique to and stepped inside.

The inside of the bookshop was so small; the prince was surprised it could carry enough books for a town at all. What wasn't crammed into the shelves was on stuffed on the windowsills. It was no wonder Belle was so delighted by how huge the library was back at the castle. He only had to wait a minute before a short, old man emerged from the backroom, plopping a stack of books on the desk in front of him.

"May I help you?" he asked.

The prince cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, good day, monsieur. I was wondering if you could help me look for someone. Her name is Belle and I believe she lives in this village."

The shopkeeper lifted his brows in surprise. "No one has ever come here asking for Belle before. Are you a relative of hers?"

"A friend actually," he corrected, drawing his hood back. "I...uh, heard she was getting married and wanted to see her."

M. Bouquin studied the prince's face curiously. He looked to be about Belle's age...did he know perhaps? Belle had never mentioned having friends outside the village before. But then again, she was always talking about books when she came here; he supposed it had slipped her mind.

"You heard correctly," he said as he moved to the back to shelve some stock, "but it's probably best if you find a room at the tavern tonight. She won't be seeing anyone until the wedding tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

"Her _fiancé's_ rules," he growled as he climbed the ladder. "She and her father, Maurice disappeared a few weeks ago and now he's afraid she'll run off again. He won't let her leave her house unaccompanied until the ceremony."

This was shocking news to the prince. How could anyone do that to Belle? He'd let her go so she could be free, not become someone else's prisoner! He immediately thought of rescuing her, but he'd already promised himself he wouldn't reveal himself to her unless he had to. There had to be another way he could help. But how?

It was then he noticed one of the books the shopkeeper was putting back on the shelf: _Sleeping Beauty_. He knew that story, Belle had read to him once! In it, a princess had been cursed to sleep forever and a prince had had to slay a whole dragon before he could find her and wake her with his kiss. _Of course!_

In all the fairy tales Belle read to him, the prince always defeated the dragon before he saved the princess. If the prince was going to end this dilemma she had gotten herself into, he had to step up and find the dragon of this village – Gaston.

"Where can I find this Gaston?" he asked the shopkeeper.

"He goes hunting during the day and hangs out at the village tavern most evenings," he answered. "Why?"

"I'm going to have a little talk with him. Thank you for your help, monsieur."

The door closed with a loud clang before the old man could finish turning around.

* * *

><p>Gaston was in a considerably good mood that night. And why shouldn't he be? In less than twenty-four hours Belle would be his. The perfect wife for the perfect huntsman. After tomorrow no one would doubt he was the greatest. No one would doubt that even the most hard to get woman in town could submit to his will and marry him.<p>

"I'd like to thank you all for attending my little wedding shower," he said as he lifted his glass to his comrades that night at the tavern. "Of course we're missing one little person from our party tonight. I asked Belle to come with me, but she's just so worried about her father, she won't leave his side, poor thing."

"Well I guess its better she's with him than with that Beast, huh Gaston?" said LeFou.

"I don't want to talk about that!" Gaston snapped, throwing his tankard over his head. The Beast was still a sore subject for him after Dick and Stanley's failure to retrieve his body. The sooner people forgot about him, the better.

"Of course," he said after a moment of silent reflection, "it's not Belle's fault that she got tangled up with such a _Beast._ Being raised by an inventor like Maurice, there's no question where she'd get all those crazy ideas. And not having a mother, can you imagine?" he shook his head sadly. "But make no mistake boys; Belle is going to be the _perfect_ wife. I've broken horses wilder than her. Once we get married, I guarantee she'll be keeping house with pride, raising sons galore, massaging my feet every night. Of course all those books of hers will have to go. I can't have them getting in the way of all my trophies."

He shot a smile, and the whole tavern burst out laughing, save for one. The prince had been sitting at the back of the tavern for the past half hour and was about ready to burst from all the things he was hearing from this man's mouth.

"How DARE you talk about Belle that way!" he shouted.

The laughter immediately ceased. Gaston looked up to from his chair to see a strange, hooded man sitting at one of the tables in the back of tavern. "And who are you?" he asked curiously.

"That's none of your concern," the prince snarled as he stood up from his chair. "You can't just treat Belle like some kind of trophy you can polish and do with as you please."

"Oh really now?" Gaston sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. No man had ever stood up to him before. This was certainly new. "Let me break this down for you, pal. Belle has agreed to marry me. And I'm going to make all her dreams come true."

"What do you know about her dreams?"

"Plenty more than you do, I'm sure. Say you're a newcomer, aren't you? Why don't you come celebrate with us? I'll even pay for your drink."

The prince said nothing in reply. He didn't want to be drinking with Gaston anymore than he wanted to see him kissing Belle, or forcing her to sleep with him and bear his children. "If you're a good husband," he said pointing his finger at him, "you'll listen to your wife's wishes and let her read her books."

"And if you're a good man, you'll stay out of my business, _stranger_," Gaston replied coolly. "You know, I'm starting to feel like you know Belle from somewhere. Maybe you can enlighten me."

He waved his hand, and Dick and Stanley rose from their seats. They knew how to handle a lunatic when they saw one, and this young man was no different. Or so they thought. As Dick reached out to grab him, the prince grasped his outstretched arm and threw him right into Stanley. The two men collided into each other and landed flat on the floor, their expressions shocked. What the heck had just happened?

Even the prince couldn't explain it. All he knew was the minute Dick tried to touch him, he'd felt a rush of adrenaline, like how he'd felt when he had to fend himself from the wolves. Suddenly knew what he had to do to avoid him. It was practically instinctive.

Gaston wasn't impressed. He bounded off his chair and marched straight towards the prince. "Alright, pal. I see why you're here. It just so happens that you're messing with the strongest man in town. And let me just warn you, I've never lost a single wrestling match."

"Tell me one thing," said the prince replied curtly. "Are you keeping Belle locked up because you want to keep her safe? Or are you afraid she might run off because you didn't bring back the _Beast_, like you promised her?"

At those words, a rage fell upon Gaston so strong it would even put the wrath of Hades to shame. He grabbed the prince by his collar and pinned him straight on to the table.

"How do you know about the Beast?" he shouted, his cocky face now filled with anger. "Tell me! TELL ME!"

He tightened his grip around his neck. The prince tried to fight him off, but his human body was too feeble, it felt like he was struggling to get a huge boulder off his chest. As he struggled for air, his arms flailed around the table until his right hand met the handle of a cold beer tankard. Without thinking, he grabbed it and slammed it straight into Gaston's face. Gaston grunted in pain and released the prince, giving him just enough time to roll off the table and crawl away as fast as he could.

"You can't hide!" Gaston shouted, left hand covering the injured side of his face, right hand pushing down chairs. "I killed that beast, fair and square! Everyone in town believes me."

"Wait Gaston, stop!" LeFou cried as he came towards him. "Just think about what you're doing for a moment!"

"Out of my way, LeFou!"

Maybe he'd had too many beers tonight to think clearly, but LeFou had to understand. Nobody could know about the Beast. It was upsetting enough to know that his greatest kill wasn't going to be mounted on his wall, to have someone come in here now, rubbing it in his face? Who the _hell_ did he think he was anyway?

"Aha!" he shouted as he found his target hiding behind the counter. The prince jumped over, planning to attack him head on, but Gaston was ready. The first punch he swung at him went wide, but the second time he managed to get him squarely in the stomach. The prince stumbled backwards. Gaston grabbed him, flung him into the counter and then to the far wall of the tavern.

The prince struck the wall so hard that half of Gaston's antler collection came crashing down with him. He felt something warm trickling from his nose and when he looked up, he saw Gaston coming at him with a large bar stool. Realizing he only had seconds to respond, he shoved the closest thing he could reach: a pair antlers right into the furniture. The horns locked into the legs of the chair. With an incredible amount of strength, the prince pushed himself forward, sending the both of them rolling across the tavern floor.

When the spinning finally stopped, the prince found himself lying on the floor, a little ways off from Gaston, who was now buried under the combined weight of the chair and the antler rack. Realizing he had only moments to prepare before he got up again, he bounded up on the nearest table and grabbed on to the chandelier. Gaston, who had just started to run at him, could not slow down in time. He skid across the floor beneath him, right into his fur throne. There was a terrible crashing noise. When the prince's feet touched the ground again he could see Gaston lying lopsided beside the fireplace, buried, not only in the last of his antlers, but his favourite portrait as well.

The hunter had never felt more enraged. Never in his life had he lost a tavern brawl, and to a complete stranger no less. But this was only the first round.

"Well don't just sit there, boys," he yelled. "GET HIM!"

The next moment, the tavern filled with the sounds of chair legs scrapping against hardwood as all the male patrons got to their feet. Even as a Beast, the prince knew there were a certain number of wolves he could take on before he had to consider himself outnumbered. This was definitely one of these cases.

He did the next best possible thing he could do in such a situation.

He ran.


	8. Hiding

He spent what felt like ages sprinting through the streets before he found an alleyway where he could safely hide himself. He was a fast runner at least, _very _fast in fact, but even so, it was less than a minute later that he could hear them coming, their shoes tapping loudly against the cobblestones, the echo of their voices so eerily similar to the howls of the wolves he used to hear back in the forest. He backed himself further into the shadows, daring not to even breathe for fear of betraying his hiding place. Only after the voices grew fainter did he allow himself that freedom again, gasping for air as he clutched at the pain in his chest.

The adrenaline from his fight with Gaston had long since subsided, replaced by a terrible sense of shame. He knew just as well as Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts or Belle would know that the mess he started back at the tavern could have been avoided if he hadn't let his anger get the best of him. Now he had half the village looking for him and had no idea where Belle was, or if it would even be safe to seek her out. _Damn it! _He pounded his fists into the wall as another stream of blood trickled from his nose. Less than a day in the village and already he couldn't do _anything _right.

Of one thing he was certain of; Belle had to be completely _insane _to even _think _marrying Gaston was a good idea. He'd assumed when he first heard the news that her fiancé would be refined, confident, a Prince Charming, everything that she deserved and everything that he wasn't. Now he realized how foolish he was to make that conclusion without meeting him himself. Gaston had to be just as bad as him, if not more. What on earth had she been thinking? Had she been thinking at all?

Whatever the reason, he couldn't stop to ponder it now. It was clear that the hunter wasn't the kind of man to give up his dignity without a fight. He should consider himself a wanted man now. He would have to find Magnifique, lay low at another village for a bit, come up with a plan to wipe that smirk off his face...

Quite suddenly, his body tensed as he felt someone put his hand on his shoulder. He spun around, fists raised.

It was the bookkeeper.

* * *

><p>"You stupid, stupid boy," M. Bouquin grumbled as he guided the prince back to his shop, "How long is it going to take a man of your age to realize that violence never solves anything?"<p>

The prince followed behind the old man, mind numb with disbelief. "'ow did 'ou find meh?" He was pressing a handkerchief to his nose as he spoke, trying to absorb the blood as he had been instructed to do when they'd left the alleyway.

"I've been keeping an eye for you from the moment you left my shop," the old man replied.

"Huh-I?"

"Why?" he spun around sharply and placed his hands on his hips, "You come into my shop, Belle's _favourite_ shop, asking about her whereabouts, then leave to talk with one of the biggest tyrants in town like it's no big deal? Of all the young men I've met in this village, you have to be either one of the most brilliant or one of the most insane. Come on, inside."

He escorted the prince through a backdoor and after lighting a candle brought him into the bookstore's back storage room. No sooner had he ranted on a few more things about his impulsive behaviour and cleared a spot for him at a table when they both heard a sharp rapping at the front of the store. M. Bouquin immediately looked up in suspicion.

"Sit here, and don't move," he said he passed the prince a clean handkerchief. "Apply pressure to your nose and keep your head down. Don't stop until all the blood is gone."

"Danks."

He nodded and disappeared through another door. The prince heard the sound of a bell ringing and then a gruff sounding man spoke.

_"Salut_ Aldric. We're here to ask about a suspicious man lurking 'round the village. He came to the tavern about a half-hour ago threatening Gaston about his wedding tomorrow. He was wearing a black hooded cape and nice shiny boots. Have you seen anyone like that?"

"Well of course I haven't," M. Bouquin replied dryly. "After you broke my spectacles this morning do you really think I'm capable of _seeing_ anybody? Why should I believe you anyway? Clearly all those pre-wedding spirits you boys have been having are starting to have an effect on you."

"Hey, it's none of your business what we do in the tavern," a second man said. "At least we don't waste our time reading books, like you!"

"I'll have you know Norbert, that in a century or two from now, everyone on the Western continent will have to read for a living and then we'll see who's laughing. _Bonne soirée!"_

The door slammed, and then there was silence. The prince had to hand it to the old man for standing up for himself, but quickly became worried when he heard the door open again. Where was he going? Just when he was starting to wonder if he'd forgotten him, he came in again through the back entrance.

"Well you've certainly made a mess of things," he said, shaking his head irritably. "I just followed them down the street. Thanks to your little fight back at the tavern, Gaston is sending all his friends to patrol around Belle's house until the wedding tomorrow. There's no way you'll get to see her now."

A dejected look fell upon the young man's face. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean for it to get so bad. He just made me so _angry._You should have heard the way he was talking about her, like she was his common property."

A piece of wax dripped from the candle in front of him. As he stared at it, his eye caught sight of a book lying out on the table; _Romeo and Juliet. "_I know this book," he said as he held it to the light. "It's one of Belle's favourites." He felt a smile form on his face at the memories of her reading it to him. "_For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo."_

The bookkeeper stared at the prince pensively. "Do you have feelings for her?" he asked finally.

"What?"

"You heard me. You come from nowhere just to see her. You stand up to her suitor. You know the name of her favourite book. Did you come here because you care for her?"

The prince put the book down, feeling himself hesitate with his response. "Yes. But –"

"Say no more," the old man replied, waving a hand in front of him. "I am willing to offer you a room in my shop tonight. But only on the condition that you'll help me get Belle out of here."

"Get her out?" He wasn't sure if he'd heard him correctly. "But this is her _home!"_

"It's hardly a home with that great brute stomping around making her life miserable. I've always told her that she was meant for greater places. Take her somewhere: Tours, Orléans, Paris, _anywhere_, just get her out of here and away from Gaston."

"But what about the wedding? She's getting married tomorrow!"

"Not to worry my boy! I've lived in this town for years. I know of a few ways we can delay the wedding before Gaston suspects anything. It so happens that Monsieur Bordelon has been notorious for forgetting to latch up his sheep pen. If I pay a visit to his farm before the ceremony, it might give us just enough time to get Belle safely out of the village. You'll have to be there to escort her of course, but what with that agility you demonstrated in the tavern I'm sure that won't be a problem."

The prince sat back in his chair, unable to believe what the old man was suggesting. There was no way he could grab Belle and expect her to be all right with it! But then again, what other choice did he have? He'd already learned the hard way that talking with Gaston wouldn't change anything. It was a crazy idea and likely to be dangerous, but with their tight time limit, it was probably the best plan of action they had.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll do it."

A genuine smile appeared on the bookkeeper's face. "Thank you, my boy. There may be hope for the future yet."

They shook hands, and the prince couldn't help feeling glad that at least one person in the village was looking out for Belle's well-being. He just wished he of all people, didn't have to be the one who had to deliver.

* * *

><p><em>"Belle, you have to leave this place. Take Philippe. Don't worry about me."<em>

_"I can't, papa. I made a promise."_

She couldn't believe this was happening. It felt too fast, too soon. She didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, though she knew perfectly well the reasons she could never go back to the castle now.

It was the dawn of her wedding day now, and she was trying desperately to look at the positives. Her papa was getting better. Not well enough to attend the ceremony of course, but better. And, like her mother had once said, good could always come from bad. Maybe, despite everything, something good _could _come from this marriage. No one would see her as odd or different in the arms of a man like Gaston. She'd finally be accepted, seen as an equal amongst the townspeople.

But deep in her heart, that wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to be ordinary. She wanted her dreams, her books, the world that she had seen come alive through his eyes.

_"I never knew books could do that. Take me away from this place. Make me forget for a little while."_

The Leblanc triplets came early that morning to help prepare her for the ceremony. They dressed her in a silk wedding gown with an uncomfortably low neckline, which they complained they'd been saving for their own wedding to Gaston. Belle entertained thoughts of getting dressed for a public beheading like in a book she'd read once, before deciding it best to refrain from morbid sentiments. She'd experienced enough death for one lifetime after all.

And maybe she shouldn't be feeling so bad. Characters in literature didn't always get a happy ending, right? She thought of Cordelia from_King Lear_, banished by her own father for telling the truth. She tried take on her strength as the girls fixed up her hair and powdered her face but instead was trying her hardest to choke back tears. No matter how much she tried to encourage herself, or tell herself things would be alright, she wasn't a fool. All she could think about how much she was leaving behind and who she was about to become: Madame Gaston, the wife of a murderer. In a few more hours, her body wouldn't belong to her anymore either. It was just one of many things she'd have to sacrifice.

_"You look just lovely, dear."_

_"Thank you, Mrs. Potts."_

_There was something special about tonight. She couldn't explain it, but she could see it as she stood in the mirror, clad in a golden ball gown that seemed far too elegant, yet seemed to be meant for her at the same time._ _She looked different, beautiful, confident, mature. And she felt different, too._

_If only her father were here._

_When she met the Beast at the stairs, she felt an unexplainable sense of ease and happiness settle upon her. The past few weeks had felt like a completely new beginning for the both of them. Even now, she couldn't help notice the subtle ways he had changed; the way he stood up on two legs now instead of four, the way he bowed at the landing before taking her arm, the way he ate his food, careful not to spill anything._

_When she pulled him into the ballroom after dinner, he was so nervous that she had to be the one to show him where to place his paws. They began to move across the room and gradually he grew more confident, his smile growing wider, his grip becoming more relaxed. She remember looking into his blue eyes and feeling a strange, wonderful fluttering sensation in her stomach like the one she'd felt when they'd played out in the snow not so long ago. She felt like she could put her whole life on his shoulders, not knowing where it would lead, only trusting it would take her somewhere good, somewhere wonderful. Without thinking, she closed her eyes and lay her head in his chest, letting him lead the dance. He knew the steps, had always known, he just needed that extra push._

_And for a moment, even though she knew she was in an enchanted castle, miles away from any village or human contact she almost believed that it was a handsome prince and not a Beast that was holding her there in the silence of the ballroom._

"Time to go, Belle," said Tom.

The sunlight was bright in her eyes as they made their way to the ceremony. There was one request Gaston had made before the wedding today, and that was that Belle leave with no less than four of the townsmen in tow with her. His reason stemmed from something that had happened the night before. Belle wasn't sure what it was; only that it had to do with a man who had come to the tavern during the wedding shower. This man must have made him very angry because Gaston came to her house that same night, ordering her to lock all her doors and windows before telling all his men to stand watch at the house. One thing was clear, something or someone had spooked him and now he wanted his wife to be under supervision at all times.

If Belle had looked out the parlour window earlier that day she might have seen a horse in the pen that didn't belong to her. She may have even seen the footprints of someone who'd been pacing around the back.

She did however notice the shadow that passed over her as they opened the front gate.

"Hello, gentlemen."

She looked up to see a tall, hooded man blocking their path.


	9. Flight

For a long moment, the four townsmen simply stood there, jaws hanging wide open.

"But we drove you out!" Tom was the first to say. "We chased you out of town!"

"Is that so?" the man sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then what am I still doing here?"

"I - well...," he stammered, "I don't have an answer to that."

"I'd really love to stick around gentlemen," the man continued. "But I have some business to take care of. So, if you want to make this quick and painless for all our sakes, I would advise that you stand aside and release the girl this instant."

"Ha!" Norbert laughed. "As if we're going to quietly hand Belle over to _you_. In case you haven't noticed you're outnumbered four to –"

_Wham!_ The air filled with a loud smacking noise as the hooded man's fist collided with the side of Norbert's face. A look of pure disbelief fell upon his face, and then he collapsed at the side of the fence.

"You were saying?" said the man.

Tom's face filled with rage. "Why you little –"

He ran at him, but the stranger was ready. As Tom tried to come at him with a punch, he grabbed his head and pulled him down, kicking him straight between the legs. Tom howled in pain. The stranger then used the moment he was stunned to throw him into Stanley, who was crushed under his weight. Dick came next, intending to punch his face in, but was met with an unpleasant surprise as the man blocked his fist with his arm, wrapping his free right arm under his left arm before twisting behind him and flipping him straight on to the ground. This only left Stanley and Tom to finish off; the first who he elbowed painfully in the nose, the second he threw right into the fence.

By the end, all the men were lying wiped out at his feet.

And Belle was left both shocked and dumbfounded, standing before this attacker in nothing but a flimsy veil and wedding dress. Who was he? Where had he come from? What did he want with her?

"Well what are you standing there for?" he snapped as he brushed the dirt off his cloak. While his appearance was that of a ruffian's, his voice had a crisp authority to it, as though he belonged to a higher class. "Get your father and whatever valuables you need and meet me in the back. We have ten minutes."

"You're...," Belle struggled to put words in her mouth, "you're the man who confronted Gaston in the tavern last night aren't you?"

"At your service, mademoiselle. Now do you want to marry this man?"

"No."

"Then hurry up!"

She jumped a foot in the air and ran back to the cottage as fast as she could. She hadn't felt this confused since the Beast had rescued her from the wolves so long ago.

* * *

><p>At the back of the house, the prince pulled his hood tightly over his face as he waited for Belle and her father to return.<p>

"I didn't mean to scare her Magnifique," he prattled on to his horse, nervously. "She just can't know who I am. I'm just serving as an escort for her and her father, that's it. If I give myself away, it will ruin everything. Do you understand?"

Magnifique snorted exasperatingly in response. As an animal, he didn't really care what his master planned for the woman and the old man, so long as they got out of this strange little village.

After ten minutes, during which time the prince paced around anxiously, half afraid Belle had changed her mind, half afraid the men would wake up before they escaped ("I know I didn't have to attack them Magnifique, I just didn't know how to make them cooperate"), she finally re-emerged. He was glad to see she'd changed out of that horrible wedding dress at least. He had given her many dresses back at the castle but he would never ask her to wear something like _that. _As for her father, he looked worn out, but so long as the journey wasn't longer than a few days, he was certain they would be alright.

Belle only had enough time to finish hitching up Philippe when the prince saw the flock of sheep coming across the footbridge. Their time was up.

"We have to go," he said urgently.

"But the wagon - ?"

"There's no time, come on!"

"Sorry, Papa," she said, taking her father's hand. "You'll just have to ride in the saddle with me for now."

The three of them galloped out of the village, Belle's cottage getting smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a dot on the horizon.

It was only when they'd rode a safe distance away that she forced Philippe to a stop in front of the prince.

"Before we continue," she said resolutely, "I need to know a few things. Who are you? Why did you rescue us?"

"Does it matter?" the prince replied. "You were in trouble. I happened to be stopping by and thought I'd lend you a hand."

"Nobody sent you?"

"I work for my own means, mademoiselle. Your friend who runs the bookstore might have tipped me off to your circumstances though."

"M. Bouquin?" she said in surprise.

"Yes, him. Now are we finished?"

"Wait!" she exclaimed. "Can I at least know your name?"

He paused. Never once in his life as a Beast had she ever asked for his true name. He had been known only as the Beast or the master, and he had done nothing to indicate he wanted to be called otherwise. Now he realized how foolish it was to leave the castle without coming up with some kind of title for himself. Something was creeping up in him, some part of his old life he'd buried under years of pain and suffering. He had had a name once. It was...

"Adam," he said. "My name is Adam."

"Adam?" Belle repeated. Just hearing her say that name sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. He knew would have given anything to hear her call him that when he was still a beast. "Well, thank you for saving us."

He turned to look at her and she clenched her hands over the reins nervously, for the hood he wore concealed any trace of a face or a facial expression for that matter. Was there a reason why he was hiding himself from them?

"You're welcome," he replied.

He picked up his reins and they continued along the path into the great French countryside.

* * *

><p>"Where is she?" Gaston cried.<p>

He was angry. Actually, he was beyond angry he was infuriated. His wedding had turned into a complete disaster. Monsieur Bordelon's sheep had destroyed everything, knocking over the refreshment table, sending the guests running for cover and sending the Leblanc triplets into a dead faint. And now the bride was late. Gaston could stand not having a wedding cake, but this ceremony couldn't be finished without the priest pronouncing _someone_ man and wife. He wiped some icing off his red jacket and made his way to the inventor's cottage. It was there that he found Tom, Dick, Stanley and Norbert lying by the front gate, looking as though they'd just been in a four-way fistfight with one another.

"What happened?" he asked them. "Where's Belle?"

"A man came...," Tom replied weakly.

"Man?" his eyes narrowed. "What _man?_"

"The hooded man from the night before. He knocked us out. He took her."

"WHAT?"

It was impossible. They couldn't have escaped! _Nobody _escaped from Gaston! He stormed into the cottage, hoping they were joking, but the evidence was overwhelming. Cabinets and drawers had been left opened. Belle's wedding dress and veil had thrown on the bed. Maurice was missing from his room and a quick report from LeFou told him that Philippe was also missing from the stables.

"Gosh Gaston," he said worryingly, "You don't think Belle and Maurice actually _ran off_ with that man, do you?"

"They didn't just run off LeFou," Gaston replied, clenching his fists, "Someone helped them."

And he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

It took five minutes of banging on the door of the bookshop before M. Bouquin finally answered. Not caring that he was his forty years his senior, Gaston pulled him up by the scruff of his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

"Where is that man taking Belle?" he shouted. "ANSWER ME!"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about Gaston," M. Bouquin replied calmly.

"Don't play dumb with me, old man! You were against this wedding right from the beginning. You sent that man to take her away from me didn't you?"

"So what if I did? She doesn't deserve you, and you know it. I told him to take her as far away from here as possible. Somewhere you'll never find her."

Gaston scowled at the bookkeeper and dropped him down in disgust. First Belle, then the hooded man, now this guy, was _everybody _defying him now? "If I were you Bouquin," he said firmly, "I'd start thinking about moving your business elsewhere because you may not be staying here much longer."

"I'd rather lose all the books in my shop than see you marry that girl," the old man spat back. "I regret nothing."

"It's your funeral. Come on, LeFou."

Gaston's next plan of action was to rally up all the men in the village and gather them outside the tavern. Because he was Gaston, this took little to no effort for him to do.

"Gentlemen!" he shouted from up on the roof. "Listen up! Belle has been kidnapped! First by the Beast, now one of our own townsmen has hired a stranger to bring her to the very gates of hell itself! But we'll show him! We're going to find them, finish off that ruffian and bring her back here where she belongs. Who's with me?"

There was silence.

"I said, WHO'S WITH ME?"

"Well uh...," Dick chuckled awkwardly, "it's not that we wouldn't _love _to help you Gaston, only we uh...have to patch up Tony's roof again. You know because of the leaks."

"What are you talking about?" said Gaston. "We did that_ last_ week!"

"Oh for Pete's sake!" said Norbert. "You know we love working for you, Gaston. But this is just getting really tiring, and really painful, for all of us. First the asylum, then the Beast...maybe it's all a sign that you should just give up on marrying Belle. It's clear she's been nothing but a handful since she arrived here."

"Yeah Gaston," Stanley agreed. "Make things easier for yourself and choose someone else to be your wife. I'm sure any of the Leblanc girls would do."

"NO!" Gaston shouted. How could they even suggest such a thing? Belle was _his!_ This little incident with the hooded man was just a minor setback, an easy fix for someone of his ability. Did these men really have no faith in him, after he'd saved the whole village from a Beast?

"If you won't help me then fine!" he told them. "I don't need any of you. I'll go out and find Belle myself. I'll bring her back here, and this time she _will_ be my wife, willingly. I'll show all of you!"

"Gaston wait – !" LeFou said as the hunter jumped to the ground.

"Come on, LeFou. Get André ready. We're leaving."

"But - but Gaston!" LeFou stammered as he stumbled to catch up with his boots. "There's no _way _we can find them by today! They could have gone _anywhere._"

"A good huntsman never gives up on his prey LeFou, no matter how hard it is to find," Gaston replied. "One way or another, we'll show that hooligan just what happens when he tries to take my _wife _away from me. Mark my words. The chase is on, and the cunning hunter moves silently and stealthily when he is eager for prey."

LeFou hoped they would find Belle and her father soon because he wasn't sure he could take much more of Gaston's "eerie facial expressions" if that was indeed the right way to describe the thing he was seeing on his face right now.


	10. Part II: Rain

**Part II**

"Adam?"

It had been several hours since they'd left the village. The prince was determined to keep his eyes on the road as he found this was the easiest way to keep his mind off the young woman riding beside him. Try as he might, he could not stop the fluttering sensation in his stomach as Belle's entrancing image pervaded his mind_, _and he only hoped that he would learn to suppress his feelings while they were road together. He would have to, if he expected this plan to work.

"Adam?" Belle repeated, louder this time. "Monsieur Adam?"

It took a few moments for him to remember to respond - that was his name now. "Yes?" he answered, turning around to look like he was staring at her.

"Well...um...," she fumbled with her hands, "I was wondering if we could find somewhere to camp for tonight. My father is recovering from an illness and could use some rest before we continue."

The prince sat up with a start at this. She had a point. He thought the next town would be only a few miles away from Molyneaux, but it was almost sunset now, and they hadn't encountered anything that remotely resembled a village yet. And, from the look of the overcast sky and the wind rustling the trees around them, it was likely that a storm was coming soon. He knew it wouldn't be safe to go any further when the weather was threatening to turn on them like this.

"Very well," he said. "Follow me."

They made camp inside an abandoned farmhouse in the middle in an overgrown field just off the main trail. The prince saw that the horses were secured in the stables, while Belle and Maurice laid out their blankets and got a fire ready using debris lying around the barn. Dinner consisted of a loaf of dry bread from Adam had packed away in his saddlebags. Belle, who hadn't eaten all day, accepted the food without complaint. She had a lot to be grateful for, after all. A few hours ago her greatest fear was sharing a bed with Gaston, now she was miles away from him, safe with her father and this traveller who didn't seem keen on talking, but wanted to help them just the same. Yet a strange feeling of suspicion continued to plague her as she watched Adam eat his bread across from them. Just because he had helped them didn't mean she could _trust _him.

"I'm planning to drop you off at Cravant-les-Côteaux, where there are stagecoach connections to the capital," Adam said sometime later as he pointed to a map he'd laid out on the floor, "Unless there's somewhere else you intend to stay?"

"Saint-Jean-le-Blanc," Maurice said with a cough. "I have...a sister who lives there. She can take us in...for a little while."

"Papa!" Belle uttered in disbelief, "That's a week's journey at least! We can't go that far in your condition."

"I'm not _dying _Belle," Maurice retorted. "Besides, Marguerite will be able to give us a place to stay until we find a new place to live. It won't be Paris exactly, but she's family."

Belle bit her lip as she considered her father's suggestion. Her memories of her aunt weren't exactly pleasant, but then again, she wasn't sure she had enough livres for her and her father to check into in an inn for more than a few days at least. Unless they could magically raise enough money to buy a house while they were on the road, going to her aunt's was the best thing they _could _do. "I guess that's our only choice then," she decided.

"Then that's where we're going," said Adam. "Saint-Jean-le...le le le le..."

"Blanc," she finished.

"Thank you." He traced his finger on the map, trying to figure out the best ways of getting there from their current location.

Later that night, Belle got her father ready for bed, giving him his medicine before wrapping him in some blankets and laying him down to sleep.

"Belle, you've grown up so fast," he said as he placed a hand on her cheek. "Sometimes I think I may have missed out on something, spending all those nights working on my inventions, not spending any time with you. When I lost you, all I could think about was everything you'd sacrificed, all the things in life you'd never see, never do."

"I'm here now Papa," Belle said gently. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

From the other side of the barn, Adam clenched his fists and stood up, mumbling something about finding more firewood before the storm hit.

"Who is he, Papa?" He heard Belle ask as soon as he walked out of the barn.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, Belle," her father replied. "Perhaps he is a guardian angel sent to protect us."

"You really believe that?"

The prince tried to resist the urge to laugh as he heard this. He was many things, but an angel wasn't one of them.

* * *

><p><em>The castle was on fire. She could hear the flames roaring behind her as she ran up the twisted staircase, the weight of her ball gown almost making her slip off the edge where the steps disappeared into the chasm below her. Something terrible was coming and all she knew was that she had to warn him before it was too late.<em>

_At last, she reached the West Wing corridor, forcing the doors open and flinging herself inside. He was standing by the window, his tall figure hunched over the enchanted rose, just as she had left him._

_"Beast!" she exclaimed._

_"Belle?" He inched towards her cautiously and broke out into a smile. "You came back!" _

_She felt a thrill run through her body as she ran to embrace him. All senses were lost; the only thing that mattered was them being together. But no sooner had she reached them than the room filled with a terrible howl of pain. When she looked again, the Beast was staggering backwards, his paw unable to conceal the fresh wound seeping out of his shirt._

"_Beast!" _

"_Belle..." His eyes moved to her raised right hand. She jumped as she realized she was holding a dagger, a bloody dagger she could not remember carrying before. "How...could you?" _

"_No," she cried as he fell to the floor. "It wasn't me! Please, NO!"_

_Suddenly, the room filled with maniacal laughter. Belle spun around to see Gaston staggering towards her. "You!" she screamed in a blind rage, dagger raised. "You did this to him!"_

"_Oh, how could you say such a thing Belle?" Gaston said, taking the weapon from her hand as thought it were little more than a child's toy. "I wasn't the one who _killed_ him, was I? Now come along like a good little wife. The whole town is waiting for us."_

"_No!" she creamed. "No! NO!"_

_The fire spread into the West Wing as he dragged her away. When she looked back at Beast's corpse, her heart stopped because standing beside him was a man with long red-hair, staring at her intensely before the flames consumed her entirely. _

"No!"

She opened her eyes to semi-darkness, the sound of her father snoring and the wind creaking against the farmhouse bringing her back to reality. Some one's hand was on her shoulder. She turned around with a start, fearing it was Gaston, but it was Adam.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly. "You were shouting in your sleep."

She quickly wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling embarrassed. "Just...a bad dream. Did I wake you?"

"No. I was already awake," Adam replied. In truth, he wasn't used to sleeping in cold conditions in his human form, and had been spending the past hour tending the fire as a way of staying warm.

He took his hand away from her shoulder (he wasn't sure why it had been there to begin with), giving her space to crawl over to the fire and pull her blanket around herself. It surprised him, he had never seen her look so desolate before_, _not since the first night he'd taken her prisoner, or two days before when he'd seen her crying in the mirror. The Beast would have gone out of his way to comfort her, but he was Adam now and Adam kept his distance, observing, not acting.

Belle couldn't stop her body from shaking. For a moment, all she could do was sit there and cry as the memories of the dream took over: the Beast's mangled body, Gaston, the red-haired man. _Every night just the same, _she thought. _Maybe I'll be haunted like this for the rest of my life. _At last, she wiped her tears away, shifting her attention from the fire to the man sitting across from her. The firelight faintly illuminated the lower part of his face where she could see a strong looking chin and full lips. He was interesting, she had to admit. She remembered meeting a hooded man on a pilgrimage to Spain when she was a child once, but Adam was different. He bore no holy emblems, or anything to indicate he was a pilgrim or part of a church.

"What is it?" he asked her. It occurred to her just a second too late that it was rude to stare.

"You aren't...," she hesitated, "an excommunicate, are you?"

"Huh? No!"

"I'm sorry," she said_, _face flushing. She felt bad making judgments based on appearances, but it was the only thing she had to work with now. "I just - how old are you?"

"Twenty-one," he replied curtly.

_Only_ twenty-one? That left him only a few years older than she. He was even younger than she thought.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her again.

"Yes. Sorry, I just..." She wrapped her blanket more tightly around herself, looking down at the ground. She hated sitting in this silence and felt like she would go crazy if she didn't have someone to talk to right now. "Adam, I know we've only just met, and I don't expect you to answer this honestly. But have you ever done something bad...something so terrible and wanted desperately to change it?"

There was a pause before he answered. "I suppose. Why?"

"What did you do after?"

"Nothing...at first. That is...not until I found someone who helped me learn to put my mistakes behind me."

"What do you mean?"

"In the place where I came from," he hesitated, as though afraid of sharing this aloud, "I made a mistake once. I...hurt someone. Many people actually. And...my actions haunted me for a very long time. I thought I would wear them with me forever, until I met this girl. This girl...she was a remarkable woman, and she...well...," he paused, "She befriended me and helped me to see past my mistakes, made me feel like I could be a better person despite what I'd been before. I owed a lot to her." There was silence.

"Well what happened to her?" Belle asked curiously. There was something very moving in the way he told his story that made her want to keep listening to him. The prince knew this was because Belle liked to read people the way she read her books.

"We parted ways, eventually," he replied. "She wanted one thing, I wanted another. I knew it wouldn't be right to force her to...stay with me, so I left her to her responsibilities while I left...to look for answers." It seemed like he intended to say more, but he chose to be silent. Belle picked up the ball again.

"I met someone who changed me like that once, too," she said. "I could never really relate to anyone in my village, but then I met _him._ I never thought we'd be friends at first, but once we did, things changed. I began to see something in him that wasn't there before. He became sweet, kind; he even let me read my favourite books to him."

"Gaston, right?" said Adam.

"Gaston?" Belle blinked at him in surprise,."Of course not! He _hates _reading! I would never...he just wanted to marry me for the sake of having a wife. Why, what made you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Adam lowered his head for a moment. "I guess...a woman with your intelligence, I find it strange you'd agree to be his accessory if you disliked him so much."

Belle opened her mouth in outrage. "I _never_ agreed to be Gaston's accessory!" she snapped, "You have no idea what he put me through! He threatened to lock my father in an asylum, and after what he did to the - ,"

"Yes?"

"Never mind." Her faced burned red in shame. She shouldn't be yelling like this. What could she possibly gain from telling her story to a complete stranger anyway? It wasn't like Adam could magically fix this problem she'd started with Gaston. That was her fault and hers alone. "I should rest," she said finally.

Adam nodded and handed her a quilt. "Use this. You'll freeze in that," he said as he pointed to the ragged blanket she had draped around her shoulders.

She raised an eyebrow at him curiously. First bread, now blankets? How many things did this man have exactly? "Thank you," she replied. As she reached over to retrieve the quilt, she happened to notice something shiny tucked inside his cloak. _A knife? _ Before she could take a closer look however, he turned his feet away and shoved the blanket into her arms. "Goodnight, mademoiselle," he said coolly.

"Goodnight, Adam."

She lay down under the quilt next to her father, feeling confused and intrigued all at once. In many books she had read, something interesting always came along at a tragic moment. She thought of Prospero from _The Tempest_, banished from his kingdom, only to become a ruler of his own island with two spirits at his command. Perhaps, in the midst of her tragic circumstances, a new story was just beginning, for both her and her father. What had Adam done to "hurt" all those people exactly? Who was the girl who had changed him? What answers was he looking for? Still waters ran deep, and she had a feeling that there was a lot more to Adam than met the eye.

* * *

><p>"<em>He became sweet, kind; he even let me read my favourite books to him."<em>

As the prince lay down on his blankets, again he felt his heart pumping with adrenaline. Belle might have been sleeping right beside him for how clearly he could hear her breathing_._

_If it wasn't Gaston she was talking about, was it me? _he wondered. It was a fair guess. He thought back to the days spent reading books together, walking out in the grounds, eating breakfast together and couldn't help feel a sense of hope growing inside of him. Maybe it _had _all been worth something after all. _Maybe she _does_ have feelings for me. _But he quickly shooed away the thought. That was the Beast talking, not Adam. Adam hadn't come here to find out if Belle loved him or not. Adam distanced himself from wistful sentiments, knowing the truth would only hurt him in the end.

_Just one week, _he told himself as he turned to his side and closed his eyes. Just a week of keeping silent, a week of acting like perfect strangers and then they'd never have to cross paths again. It was the least he could do, after all he'd put her through.

"_I'm just serving as an escort for her and her father, that's it. If I give myself away it will ruin everything." _

Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding him of the opening of a book she had read to him once. What was the title again? _Macbeth__? The Tempest? _Then, he heard her voice against the wind.

_"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…" _

He thought he'd known pain once. But nothing could ever measure up to the sound of those cries, which tormented him for the rest of the night, worse than ten years of living under the curse could ever do.


	11. Solitude

"LeFou, get over here! NOW!"

"Coming!" LeFou shouted. He stumbled across the underbrush, smacking his head against a low tree branch before cursing loudly and getting up again. This was not exactly his idea of a good morning. He and Gaston had spent the whole night searching for Belle and still no sign of her whereabouts. To say he was getting tired would be an understatement. Most hunting trips he went on were a day long at most, but this was getting _ridiculous_! He was hungry, exhausted and longing for his warm bed back in Molyneaux. And a round of drinks from his favourite triplets would be nice...

"LEFOU!"

"Coming, Gaston!"

LeFou followed Gaston's voice into a clearing where he was tracing his finger across the dirt searching for tracks. "I'm pretty sure we've got them this time," he said.

LeFou rolled his eyes. He admitted he'd been excited when he'd heard Gaston say this the first or second time, but it was day two now and it was getting a bit tiring. Not that he was going to complain of course. He knew Gaston wasn't in the best of moods, and he'd rather not make a scene, especially if he wanted to keep all his bones in order before the wedding. "Hey Gaston," he said instead, "I know it's a little weird to be asking this now, but why are we doing this again?"

"We've been through this already LeFou," Gaston replied. "I'm claiming what's rightfully mine. Obviously, our stranger was intending to win Belle over by saving her from the Beast, so when _I_ got to him first, he decided to _cheat. _He took the Beast's body away and stole Belle, and now we're doing the sensible thing and getting her back."

"Oh," said LeFou. He hadn't remembered hearing this story before, but he supposed that sounded right. What kind of guy would run into a tavern to challenge Gaston anyway? That was completely _nuts!_ "So you still wanna marry her after all this?"

"Of course!"

"Oh, okay. But why?"

"Why?" Gaston gave him a strange look. "My father always told me that men aren't born with greatness, they _make_ it. You might be the best, but one wrong move, one weak link in the chain, and 'boom' you're the laughing stock of the entire village. Belle is my weak link. If I don't act now those townsfolk back there will start talking, and not the good kind of talk either. They'll be saying 'well Gaston's pretty great at hunting and all, but he _still _didn't get that beast,' or, 'oh yeah, Gaston's good with the ladies but he still didn't manage to win the most _beautiful _girl in town.' My whole reputation will fall to pieces! This is why I have to get her back. Do you understand?"

His tone was so sharp then, LeFou could only nod slowly and gawk at how astute he was. He never knew Gaston could take himself this _seriously _before. He had always assumed Gaston wanted to marry Belle because he thought she'd make a good wife, not because he needed her to 'chain down his reputation' or whatever that meant exactly. Of course, LeFou knew there was more to greatness than just bringing back impressive kills and hosting great tavern parties every night. He just never knew it meant locking an old man in an asylum and going to the ends of the earth to marry a woman who didn't even _like _him...

Suddenly, Gaston caught sight of a strange shape on the ground - a horseshoe footprint. "Look at this, LeFou!" he exclaimed as he bent down to examine it. "These are the same horse shoe marks that our blacksmith makes! And the indent is deep, which means the horse must have been carrying something heavy. You know what that means?"

"Uhh..." LeFou stammered, "The peddler's coming back to town?"

"No stupid! Belle and Maurice! They _must _be riding their horse together, which means that this must be _their _hoofprints!"

"Oh! Well I knew that."

"They're heading south. We can catch them if we hurry."

As he stormed out of the clearing, the little half-smile LeFou had been wearing on his face faded. _He's still the same Gaston, isn't he?_ he thought, trying to reassure himself. Gaston was just a little bit angry, a little frustrated that things weren't going his way...that was okay, right? LeFou shouldn't be worried. He should be happy they were getting close to finding Belle. He should be telling him that that hooligan wouldn't know what hit him, that Belle would get the surprise of her life when he finally came to rescue her. But why was it so hard for him now? Why couldn't he say it?

_I'd still think you were the greatest even if you didn't get Belle back, _he thought as he watched Gaston disappear into the trees. _Isn't that good enough?_

* * *

><p>The following morning, Belle, the prince and Maurice continued their journey towards Saint-Jean-le-Blanc. Few words were exchanged amongst the three, although the prince couldn't help stealing glances at Belle a few times, wondering what she was thinking about and if he should mention that she'd been talking in her sleep again. He wished he could just have a normal conversation with her, but his fear of veering into sensitive territory caused him to remain silent. He was a stranger to her after all. Maybe it was better this way.<p>

At noon, the three of them stopped in a clearing to have lunch. The prince, who still felt uncomfortable eating in the presence of his two ex-prisoners, wolfed down his food and then excused himself to take Magnifique out for a drink from a nearby stream.

_What am I going to do? _he thought as he splashed water on his face. Here he was, human, a breath away from Belle, and he might as well have been a Beast for all the affection he could show her. Last night had been agony; imagine how long a week could be!

Deciding it best to think of something else, he took the magic mirror out from his cloak. "Show me the castle," he said.

There was a flash of green and his reflection changed to show Mrs. Potts looking outside the window of the West Wing with a forlorn expression on her face.

"_Come now Mrs. Potts, there's no need to fret," Lumiere was saying from where he stood behind her. _

"_I know Lumiere, I know," she sighed heavily. "It's just, he hasn't ever been outside the castle alone for this long before." _

"_I'm sure he's fine. The master is a strong man now; he can take care of himself. Not to mention he has his royal credentials." _

_"He hasn't made an appearance in over ten years. They think he's dead," Cogsworth pointed out. Lumiere shot Cogsworth a dirty look, as though to suggest that his bluntness wasn't wanted at a time like this. "What?" _

"_You know," Mrs. Potts said, still not taking her eyes off the window, "Maybe there was something going on inside of him, something we just didn't see. I mean, think about it. We taught him how to be good, and he turns around and does something completely unexpected. Maybe, after all this time, he's come to see what we knew all along about love and only just lost sight of. We spent so much time getting him to control his temper; we never prepared him for what it was really like when love came to him." _

"_We tried our best, Mrs. Potts," said Lumiere, "It would do no good to punish ourselves for something that we couldn't see happening."_

_"How do you know he isn't punishing himself by going out there and letting her go a second time?" _

"L'amour _has its ways. If it turned the master from a beast into a prince, then surely it will be the one to bring the two of them back together again."_

"_All we can do is hope." _

Hope. At this, the prince lowered the mirror in disdain. What good would hope do? It was because he had treated love as "hope" and not a person that he was in this situation right now. Ten years of being cursed and he'd never once cared _who _the person would be who broke his spell, only that he needed her in order to become human again. He hadn't fallen in love with Belle; he'd just fallen in love with the _idea _that she could be the one to _save_ him.

It wasn't until that night when she'd told him how much she missed her father that he'd been forced to see the truth: he couldn't make her do this. She couldn't help him; no one could, except for himself. He would have died peacefully, knowing he'd done one righteous act in freeing her, but _she - _that damn enchantress - had brought him back. And why? He didn't know. All he knew was that he had to find her and set this right before it was too late.

"If only you could talk," he said to Magnifique, "Maybe you know where she is."

Suddenly, the prince was startled out of his musings as he heard a rustling noise behind him. He turned around to see something blue moving through the trees: Belle. Great, just the person he needed to see right now. He quickly threw his hood up and stuffed the magic mirror back into his cloak.

"Oh, hello!" Belle said cheerily as she saw Adam sitting there, "Just getting some water."

"Help yourself," he replied stiffly.

She could feel his eyes on her as she bent over the stream to fill her canteen. She knew she had to say something to him, but what? "You know," she said, frowning as she corked up the container, "I want to apologize for what I said last night. I didn't mean to snap at you. I guess, that thing with Gaston, it's just difficult for me to talk about right now."

"I understand," said Adam.

"You have a beautiful horse," she continued as she walked over to Magnifique. "Where do you find Arabian palominos in this part of France?"

"Oh. He was a...present from my parents."

"A present?" Belle repeated. She knew Gaston had invested a great deal of money on his own black stallion, but an _Arabian_ horse? That would cost a fortune, wouldn't it?

Adam must have realized this, because he quickly added, "Oh, well I mean they didn't pay full price for him. They, uh...had connections. A friend of the family. Careful - ,"

Belle had reached up to pet his nose, but surprisingly, Magnifique didn't shy away, but lowered his head and allowed her to rub the back of his ears.

"Well he obviously likes you," Adam said as he walked up beside her. "Usually he won't let me touch him without a bit of coaxing first."

"He's nervous, is he?"

"More like stubborn. I used to take him out every morning to escape my tu -,"

"Yes?" she looked at him curiously.

"Never mind." He had been about to say 'tutors' but caught himself just in time. Unfortunately, Belle noticed the slip.

"Adam - ?" she started to ask. Before she could finish however, she was cut off by a voice coming out from the woods behind them.

"Well of course my sons are all going to look like me, LeFou. No one makes boys more strapping than GASTON!"

"Darn right!"

"I'll teach them how to hunt; they'll have their own rifles and hunting boots..."

Belle's face turned as white as a sheet. "Gaston?" she gasped in disbelief. "But...how?"

"He must be looking for you," Adam said, frowning. "Come on, we'll take the horse back."

They rode Magnifique further up into the woods, the prince trying not to be so excited over the fact that Belle had to put her arms around him so she wouldn't fall off. Once they reached the clearing, she filled her father in on what had happened and then they packed up their things and took their horses out on the road again.

"I just can't believe it, he's actually been following us!" Belle said incredulously. "He must have tracked us from the village."

"Your husband doesn't give up, does he?" Adam said sarcastically.

"He's _not_ my husband!" she snapped. But the frown on her face told him she was just as worried about their situation as he was. Neither of them had expected Gaston to come out this far to look for them. Now that they knew he was here, they had to be a lot more careful.

"Well, if I were being chased by someone, which I can't say happens often, I'd think of a way to get _off_ the road," said Maurice. "There's less chance of us being seen that way."

"Wait," said Adam as he pointed to a small cottage in the distance. "What is that?"

The cottage was covered in vines and made out of grey stone and cracked shingles. Upon coming closer, they noticed that there was a wooden plaque posted above the door that read _"__Sedit qui timuit ne non succederet." _

"Do you think anyone lives in there?" Belle asked curiously.

"Only one way to find out." Adam dismounted his horse and knocked on the door. A stout man with a long silvery beard and round nose answered it.

_"Oui?"_ he asked.

"Uh, good day monsieur," the prince said hesitantly, "I apologize, but we're travellers in these parts and wondered if we could stay in your lodgings for a bit."

The old man raised an eyebrow curiously. "What is that which goes with a carriage, comes with a carriage, is of no use to a carriage, and yet the carriage cannot go without it?" he asked.

"What?"

"Noise!" Belle exclaimed.

The old man beamed. "Come right in!"

* * *

><p>Their host, as they would soon learned, was called Aristide. He was a bodger who lived alone in the woods and entertained travellers – that was, travellers who were clever enough to answer his riddles.<p>

"An inventor and his daughter running away from an angry hunter with an escort, how _delightful!" _he said once they'd all introduced themselves. "Well, you've answered my riddle correctly, so you may stay here as long as you like. I can give you two rooms. I suppose you two will want to stay together?" He pointed to Belle and Adam.

"Oh no," said Belle, "we're not - ,"

" - together." Adam finished.

"Oh, well, my apologies. There are plenty of rooms for everyone. Pick out what you like and let's get tucked in, shall we?"

After the three of them had brought in their things and picked out their rooms, Aristide gave them a brief tour of the house. It looked surprisingly larger on the inside than it did on the outside, complete with a kitchen, dinette and a second floor leading up to several bedrooms. After he was done showing them around he brought them into the dinette where he chattered away animatedly as he served them refreshments.

"I get folks in here all the time," he told them as he poured a glass of water for each of them. "Peddlers, pilgrims, gypsies, I don't discriminate, so long as you're not a bonehead trying to sell me something cheap. It would surprise you how many come around here. Still, they're definitely not as odd as the time I had a man in here whose daughter had been turned into an ogre. Imagine that, an _ogre!_ Apparently, some enchantress had wanted his daughter to marry her son as part of a deal, and when he tried to back out of it, she cursed her_._ I said to him 'Monsieur, that's where your problem is: you never ever make a promise you don't intend to keep, especially with an enchantress.' That's common sense, that is._"_

Adam froze, holding his glass in mid-air. Did the old man just say what Adam thought he said?

"Wait a minute," Belle said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought enchantresses only existed in fairytales?"

"Oh no, mademoiselle, they are very real!" Aristide assured her. "You're lucky you haven't seen one yet. They're cunning as thieves, they are. That enchantress needed to hold only one thing against the man, and then 'poof', curse! That's how they work, I'm afraid."

"Well, did he ever make amends with her afterwards?" Maurice asked.

"Nobody knows," said Aristide. "Right after the enchantress cast the spell, she disappeared. The girl's father might have been searching for her for weeks, from the looks of things. Poor fellow. I hadn't had the heart to tell him that most people who go looking for enchantresses end up doing so until their dying day."

By this point, Belle and Maurice's expressions were torn somewhere between shock and skepticism. Put in their situation, the prince knew he wouldn't be much different. A spoiled prince would laugh at the idea that enchantresses were real, let alone that they could put a curse on _him. _But after meeting one face to face, he'd become a lot wiser and a lot more conscientious. And now, he was worried.

"_If I spend a whole lifetime searching for the enchantress, then the servants might be household objects forever!"_

"Did she leave a condition?" he asked the old man anxiously. "Some way for the girl to break the spell?"

"Well, I believe there was something, now that you mention it," he said, scratching his head. "What was the phrase now? _Une basse de beurre? Un passé d'Aur?" _

"_Un baisser d'amour _- true love's kiss?" Belle suggested.

"Yes, that's it!"

The glass fell from Adam's hands, bouncing and shattering on the floor upon impact.


	12. Stars

The rest of their time at Aristide's passed without any strange surprises or interruptions. The old man served them a hot stew for dinner, and then played some folk songs on his mandolin, many of which Belle and Maurice recognized and could sing along to. Adam, who hadn't grown up in a village like Belle and Maurice, was saved joining in by playing with Aristide's cat – Diotima, a chartreux cat with green eyes that he could have sworn twinkled gold in certain lights. He wasn't sure if this was a normal eye colour for a cat but decided to shrug it off. It had been many years since he'd seen what a cat looked like after all.

It wasn't until he retired to his room later that night that the prince finally had a chance to contemplate the story Aristide had told them earlier. _An enchantress punishes a father for breaking a promise by turning his daughter into an ogre, with true love's kiss as her only way to become human again. A prince gets turned into a Beast as punishment for selfishness and has to win someone's love before his twenty-first birthday to be human again._

There had to be a connection between the stories, he thought. True, he'd never considered the idea that the enchantress went around cursing others, but he supposed it made sense - she was a magical being after all. Come to think of it, it was possible that both he and the girl's spell had been cast by the _same _enchantress and she'd assigned the same conditions for _both_ of them. It was just a theory, but he had a feeling that Aristide might be able to verify it for him. The fact that he knew a bit about the nature of enchantresses had to mean he'd know something more about his curse - maybe he even knew how to break it!

With this encouraging thought in mind, the prince made his way downstairs, careful not to make too much noise passing Belle and Maurice's room. Aristide was no longer in the dining room, and the mandolin he'd been playing earlier was lying on the table along with their bowls still left out from dinner. This puzzled the prince. He hadn't heard the man come upstairs, had he gone out maybe?

"_Meow!" _The prince looked down to see Aristide's cat Diotima emerge from under the chair across from him. She gave him a long, piercing stare before she walked through the doorway to his right, leading him down a hallway towards a door at the back of the house. Outside, the prince found Aristide standing out in a meadow, looking up at the night sky as though searching for something.

"Oh hello there boy!" he said as he saw the prince approaching him. "Is something the matter?"

"Good evening Monsieur Aristide," the prince replied. "I was just wondering if I may have a word with you."

"Oh of course!" the old man said with a smile. "You'll have to forgive me, I was merely revelling in an old hobby of mine - stargazing. Call it what you will, divinity, dao, karma; it is my personal belief that all the greater mysteries of the world can be answered in the cosmos. You see those three stars over there?" he said as he pointed up to three stars in the sky, "That's the belt of Orion. He was a great hunter with an ego so huge; he challenged the Gods, claiming he could kill every single animal on Earth. Well, Mother Nature decided to put Orion to the test by sending a giant scorpion to earth to defeat him and boom! One sting to the heel and he was as dead as a door nail! And over there is Andromeda. She was a princess who was sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus for her beauty, and would have been killed if Perseus didn't save her," he pointed to a clump of stars on the left.

"Did Perseus kill Cetus?" the prince asked.

"Of course," Aristide replied. "Although some versions say that he used the severed head of Medusa to turn him into stone. You can see a part of her head there if you look closely."

The prince bit his lip. They'd only started this conversation and he already had a strong urge to change the subject. "Monsieur, you mentioned a story earlier this afternoon about an enchantress," he told him. "Do you _know_ how I can get in contact with one?"

"My dear boy," Aristide replied, looking at him in surprise, "If it's a wish you seek, enchantresses aren't genies. They're cunning as thieves, they are. Remember what I said before? "

"I know. But it's not a spell that I need casting monsieur. It's a spell that needs _undoing._"

"Undoing you say?" Aristide repeated. "Well that's certainly something I've never heard before. What happened?"

"Well," the young man hesitated for a moment. "For one thing, I'm not exactly a traveller. I'm a prince."

"A prince? Oho, _your majesty! _I just _knew_ there was something different about you!"

"Yes, yes," he looked back at the house nervously. "But please, don't say anything in front of _them_. They don't actually _know _I'm a prince."

"A prince in disguise, even better!"

"Shh!"

"Alright, alright, no need to be snappy!" said Aristide. "So then, you're a prince pretending not to be a prince and...?"

The prince hesitated. He had never told anyone outside the castle about his curse - not even Belle. But he supposed there was no harm in telling the old man his story. He was a hermit who lived alone in the woods after all. The only people he'd share his story with would be travellers who'd treat it with the same skepticism that Belle and her father did. With that thought in mind, he proceeded to tell Aristide about that cold winter's night from ten years ago, excluding any details about Maurice and keeping Belle as his prisoner.

Upstairs, Belle awoke from a nightmare to hear Adam and Aristide's voices outside her window. What was going on? Curiosity got the better of her, and she grabbed her peignoir and made her way downstairs.

"So let me understand this correctly," she heard Aristide say as she tiptoed along the side of the house. "This enchantress came back to break the spell on you, but the rest of your residents are still cursed?"

"Yes," Adam nodded.

"Well that's certainly a tricky piece of work isn't it? Did she at least _say_ anything to you before she undid it? No hocus-pocus, abracadabra...?"

"Nothing except: the door is now open; it is simply a matter of finding the courage to walk through."

"Aha, a riddle! Can't say I'd know how to crack that one. Unless..."

"Unless?" Adam said anxiously.

"Well," Aristide scratched his beard for a moment. "I may be wrong, but a door might refer to a journey of sorts. And 'courage' – perhaps she expects you to overcome something. Is there something in your past, maybe? Some sort of chance you were afraid of taking, an opportunity you were afraid of facing?"

A vision of Belle came to the prince's mind, but he refused to say a word. That was just wishful thinking, and besides, he'd already promised himself that he wouldn't involve her in this, not again. "No. There isn't anything," he told him firmly.

"You're certain?" he raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.

"Yes, I'm certain."

Suddenly, Belle let out a shriek as something fuzzy rubbed against the front of her leg - Aristide's cat. Adam and Aristide turned around just in time to see Belle tumble from the bush she'd been hiding behind, the hem of her nightdress snagging on a branch as she fell face first into the grass.

"Mademoiselle!" Aristide exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"What are you doing here?" Adam asked angrily.

"I'm sorry," Belle replied as she got to her feet, "I...," But before she could answer she was interrupted by a voice coming from the front of the house.

"Open up, right now! I know you're in there!"

The prince groaned as he recognized the familiar voice: Gaston. "Not again. Here, let me take care of him."

"No!" Artistide exclaimed. "I mean – don't worry about it. My niece is in there, she can distract him."

"Your niece?" Belle and Adam said together. Aristide had never mentioned that someone else was living in the house with him.

"It's alright," Aristide continued, his eyes seeming to glisten a strange shade of gold in the moonlight. "She can handle him. Now go upstairs and get your things. I'll meet you in the stables. Quickly now, come on!"

Adam was very confused, but he gave Belle a shove before they headed back into the house. The sooner they were away from that hunter, the better.

* * *

><p>Of one thing Gaston was sure: this was the best beer he'd tasted in a long time, much better than any of the stuff they had back at the tavern. And even more delicious than the beer was the woman serving him, with long, flowing blonde hair, green eyes and a busty body to boot - beauty enough to rival his own wife's. If only she lived in his village, he knew he would marry her in a heartbeat.<p>

"So," she said to him as she sat down at the table across from him, several tankards of beer at the ready, "What brings you to this part of the woods, monsieur...?"

"Gaston," Gaston replied. "Gaston Légume. I'm the best hunter in my village – heck, in this whole province, you know!"

"Really now?" the woman said, lifting an eyebrow as she propped her head up on her hands.

"Darn right!" Gaston replied, flashing her a dashing, debonair smile. "I've killed all kinds of creatures: wolves, bears, deer, bunchaglomps...,"

"You must be very brave to be able to take on so many _beasts _all by yourself, monsieur."

"What can I say? No one loves a good challenge like Gaston! Let me tell you about the time...,"

* * *

><p>Back upstairs, Adam gathered what little items he'd unpacked in his room before he made his way back to the stable. Aristide had already bridled up Magnifique and Philippe, much to his surprise.<p>

"How much do we owe you for the board?" Adam asked as he put his things back into Magnifique's saddlebags.

"No charge, no charge!" Aristide replied. "You answered my riddle correctly, so consider your stay on the house! Just tell me one thing: The old man's daughter back there is a fine specimen, certainly not a girl you come across every other day. Perhaps after you've finished this little side quest for your enchantress, you might invite her to your castle and get to know her a little better?"

The prince wasn't sure if Aristide was being serious or funny. He chose funny and forced himself to laugh. "Princes don't end up with peasants - only in fairy tales. Besides, her heart isn't mine to take."

"Ah, so its denial then, is it?"

"Huh?" he turned around, "No! It's nothing like that!"

"I understand, dear boy, no need to get angry," said Aristide. "Just remember one thing: you will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honour. And he conquers, who conquers himself."

"I'll consider that," the prince said with a curt nod. "Thank you."

Once Belle and her father arrived in the stables they packed up the rest of their things and said their goodbyes.

"Thank you for everything, Monsieur Aristide," Belle said as she gave the old man a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry we have to leave so suddenly. We had a wonderful time."

"Do not worry mademoiselle!" Aristide replied. "I'd rather that you be somewhere safe than be found by that vile man back there. At least he's distracted now, so you have some time to get out. If you take the back way through the woods there's a trail not far off you can use to get to the next village..._Les Hermites _I believe it's called."

"Thank you so much," said Maurice.

_"Au revoir!" _Belle called as she and her father mounted Philippe.

"_Au revoir mes amis,_ and good luck on your quest!"

_Quest. Some quest. _Adam thought as they rode out from the house. It felt as though he were leaving with even more questions than before. How was he supposed to break the spell? If the enchantress was expecting him to complete a journey, what was he meant to find at the end of it?

It wasn't until they were out in the woods that he noticed exactly how bright Perseus's constellation looked against the night sky.

* * *

><p>Gaston had lost track of how many beers he'd drank by this point. The woman, what was her name again? Diane? Danielle? Kept asking him questions which he answered with ease, even long after LeFou had fallen asleep in the chair beside him. No one was a better smooth talker than Gaston, that was for sure. He was just recounting the story of his recent defeat of the Beast and the jealous man who had kidnapped his wife when the woman suddenly interrupted him.<p>

"Hang on a moment. You'd actually _kill_ this man to get your fiancée back?"

_Kill. _Had he said that right? He couldn't even remember. This fact amused him and he started to laugh. "Well only if necessary," he told her. "But you need to understand...its _fate _that the girl and I be together. I'd do anything to make her mine."

"Wouldn't it be easier to get to know a few girls back in your village and marry one of them?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Easier, yes," he replied, "But not better! I'm the best man in town so that means I deserve the best! I'm not about to give up just because some guy thinks he can outsmart me. That's why I killed the beast in the first place, you know. Belle liked that _monster_ more than me, so I had to stop him."

"I see," she said, her eyes shimmering gold for a moment. "You are truly an obstinate man, Monsieur Gaston."

Gaston didn't know what "obstinate" meant exactly, but he was so drunk by this point she might have called him a cold-blooded killer and he still would have taken it as a compliment. "Darn right," he said confidently. "And one thing I know for sure, no one wins like Gas...," his eyes rolled back in his head, "...ton."

The young woman continued to stare meditatively at Gaston as he lay snoring with his cheek pressed against the table. There was a popping noise as the tankards disappeared and Aristide walked back into the dining room.

"Goodness, that was a close one," he said as he gave Gaston a poke on the cheek to ensure he was asleep. "With the way he was looking at you, Diotima, I think he might have started making moves on you if the interview went any longer."

"I wasn't too worried," Diotima said as she leaned back in her chair. "He'd drunk close to four dozen glasses after all. I knew it wouldn't be much longer before the potion started to kick in."

"So then, he's really to be your next victim, is he?" Aristide said as he took a seat beside her.

"Certainly," she replied. "He's ruthless and prideful, a living descendant of Orion if I've ever seen one myself. It's a miracle that that ego hasn't destroyed him already."

"I see. Then what are you planning to do with him?"

"I have a few scenarios I mean to explore first. I admit that I was surprised when I heard you tell them that story about the girl of all things. It's been so long now, I'd almost forgotten about her. How is the poor child doing by the way?"

"Well she's not much of a child anymore," Aristide replied. "Last I heard, her parents locked her in a tower to await someone to rescue her. So far they haven't had much success."

"Hmm...," Diotima said as she put a hand on her cheek, "Another option for my list perhaps."

"What about the prince?" asked Aristide.

"What of him?"

"Well," the old man paused, "It's not that I don't agree with your decision to reverse his transformation, Diotima, but I've spoken with him, and it seems that he will not even open his eyes to the idea that the girl may actually have feelings for him. Don't you think it would be easier if you changed him back into a Beast, so she may at least recognize him and he may explain what he needs to break the spell?"

"He would not tell her either way," Diotima said, shaking her head. "In his heart he knows what he must do; it is only fear that is holding him back now. Besides, I could not keep him in that form any longer than he could have forced the girl to stay with him. It is a terrible thing to deprive a man of the joys of what makes him human, Aristide - the prince of all people knows that. As a Beast, he was obligated to break the spell to earn back that freedom, but as a man anything he does during his journey is done by his will alone. That is a gift more powerful than anything I can give him with simple magic."

"Your compassion for these humans continues to befuddle me, Diotima," Aristide said. "And yet it also makes you such a wonderful partner to work with. If you have faith that the princè will find the courage to break the curse on his own terms, then so do I."

Diotima smiled. "Thank you for helping me with this, Aristide."

"Anytime my dear. I wish you good luck on your journey."

With that, they both shook hands and disappeared in a flash of white light.

* * *

><p>When Gaston woke the next morning, the house was completely empty, and the blonde woman was a fuzzy memory in the back of his mind. He felt quite angry with himself. He <em>neve<em>r fainted from drinking, and he hated to think that somewhere out there was a woman remembering him as a weakling who couldn't even stomach enough beer before passing out. What's more, Belle and her father could be _anywhere _by this point!

"LeFou!" he shouted to his lackey, who was dozing in the chair beside him.

"Five more minutes...," LeFou groaned.

"LEFOU!" He shouted again, kicking his chair backwards. LeFou woke with a start.

"Whoa, what?"

"Go get André," he told him. "We have a wife to find."


	13. Fire

"_Wait! Please, wait!"_

_The wind roared loudly in his ears as he trudged through the blizzard towards the pink light, his body numb with cold. The field seemed to go on forever. He wished he still had the Beast's body so he could get to her faster but this was his only chance – if he couldn't reach her now, he never would._

_Suddenly, he lost his footing and fell face first into the snow. When he got up again, the old woman was standing before him, the wind not even touching her as she inched her way towards him with the enchanted rose. "You called for me, my prince?" she asked in her decrepit voice._

"_Please," he pleaded as he got to his knees. "Tell me how I can make my servants human again. They don't deserve this. I'm begging you!"_

"_But my dear, I have told you before; you already know the answer," she said, her face curling up into a smile. "It is standing right in front of you."_

_There was a flash of light. The prince found himself on the balcony outside the West Wing, Belle standing directly across from him._

_"What are you doing here?" he asked her in disbelief. "I thought I told you to go to your father."_

_"I can't leave you," she replied softly. _

_Slowly, she placed a hand on his cheek. He wanted to tell her to leave him, only the sensation felt so wonderful against his bare, human skin that he couldn't help mirroring the gesture, brushing his fingers gently against the side of her face._

_She smiled. "You love me, don't you?"_

_His mind turned numb. "I…"_

"_Kiss me."_

_It was an order, not a request. He leaned forward, and was inches away from meeting her lips when there was a terrible ripping noise. Belle let out a bloodcurdling scream. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that it was not his hands that held Belle but claws, large, razor sharp claws that had pierced through her small torso as blood seeped out of her bodice, her mouth opened in a silent gasp._

"_Belle!" he cried. But nothing escaped his lips but terrible, beastly snarls. He was the Beast, every muscle in his body could feel himself changing, and his heart began to race with terror as he dropped her on the ground to lie in her own puddle of blood..._

"No!"

The prince awoke in a cold sweat to see a circle of trees above him. It was a dream he told himself. Just a bad dream. Still, his human hands trembled as he held them over his eyes, afraid they would turn into claws at any minute. His blankets felt unpleasantly damp. When he looked under them he understood why and felt himself blush. _Great. _Not only was he having bad dreams, but he was having problems with his body too. Thankfully, he remembered the servants had packed another set of breeches for him in Magnifique's saddlebags. He got up from his blankets, taking one look at Belle who was sound asleep on the other side of clearing with her father before he got out his clothes and made his way into the forest.

"_Is there something in your past, maybe? Some sort of chance you were afraid of taking, an opportunity you were afraid of facing?"_

"_Just remember one thing: you will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honour. And he conquers, who conquers himself."_

It had been two days since they'd left Aristide's now, and the prince still couldn't stop muddling over the man's cryptic words. He felt frustrated more than anything. The enchantress had made her instructions so clear to him when she first turned him into a beast, why was she being so mysterious now? And Belle. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He knew the reasons why they couldn't be together yet his mind still played those dreams, over and over, like a candle he couldn't extinguish no matter how many times he tried to blow it out.

He stopped by a pond near the clearing to take off his breeches and put on the clean ones. His reflection looked eerily blank in the water. Upon closer inspection, he thought he saw a bit of stubble growing on his chin that wasn't there before. He brushed his fingers over it for a moment before making a note to learn how to shave when he returned to the castle, and pulled his hood over his face again.

* * *

><p>Belle was the first to wake, and the first to notice Adam missing. It was likely he had gone off to relieve himself, but at the same time she felt slightly worried, wondering if a wild animal had dragged him off in the middle of the night. He'd been acting strange and reclusive lately and this was what caused her to go look for him after he hadn't reappeared in about fifteen minutes' time.<p>

Thankfully he wasn't that hard to find due to the splashing noises he was making in the pond next to the clearing. She watched him for a moment as he tossed pebbles into the water and began to think about the discussion they had exchanged two nights earlier.

"_Are you alright?" she asked, flinching as he yanked a branch off a nearby tree. They were both in the forest looking for firewood, Adam moving so quickly that she had to jog to catch up to him. _

"_Never better!" he snapped as he added the broken branch to the pile of wood he was holding in his arms._

"_Alright. It's just you seem a bit…" she hesitated to say the word, "angry."_

"_Hmm…and there's a reason for that is there?" he said as he turned to face her. "Well let's look at the facts, mademoiselle. I made a promise to your bookkeeper that I would get you somewhere safe. And you're doing a fine job of helping me __honour that promise by wandering around _outside, unaccompanied _in the middle of the night right when your fiancé is still looking for you. You _knew_ it wasn't safe, why did you go out there?"_

"_I'm sorry," Belle apologized. "I just…I heard you and Aristide talking and wanted to know what was going on."_

"_Well you heard us didn't you? Are you satisfied with what you learned?"_

"_I want to understand," she replied. "Why are you looking for an enchantress?"_

"_Why does it matter?"_

"_Well maybe we can help you."_

"_NO!" he exclaimed, so loudly that she felt herself jump. "I have to do this on my own. Besides, you're helpless enough, even with me there to save you. Just think if I hadn't come for you when I did you'd be scrubbing floors for your husband back in Molyneaux right now. You're so..."_

_"So what?" _

_"DIFFICULT! You just don't understand when to leave things alone and stay put!"_

_"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "Maybe I'm not comfortable with the fact that my _escort_ has never shown me his face once since he rescued me."_

_"I like to keep my identity a secret, mademoiselle. For personal reasons."_

_"Why? Are you a thief? Is someone after you? _

_"It's none of your business!" he snapped. He walked away fuming as Belle brush a stray hair away from her face. Just because he didn't want to talk about his identity didn't mean that the discussion was over. _

"_Just tell me one thing, Adam," she called out to him. "Why are you so determined to undo this curse if you're not involved in it anymore?"_

_At that he paused. She half expected him to throw a fit and start yelling at her again but when he turned around his voice was surprisingly calm. "Because I'm the reason it happened. I made a mistake once. And…I'd do anything to change it." _

_There was silence as he stepped forward and passed her the branches. "Take these to the clearing," he told her. "I'll be with you shortly."_

_The last thing she could see was the strange silver tool glistening under his cloak before the darkness of the forest swallowed him up completely._

Whether he intended it or not, Adam was becoming more and more interesting to Belle with every passing day. True, he was far from a gentleman, but beneath that rough exterior there was a whole layer of melancholy to him that reminded her of one other person; the Beast. They did seem to have a lot in common, both withdrawn, both temperamental, both extremely secretive...

_Or maybe you're just imagining it, _she thought. The Beast hadn't even been dead for a week after all. And as much as she'd been trying her best to focus on her father and getting away from Gaston, the Beast was always there; in her thoughts, her dreams, and maybe in her desperation she was starting to project him on to the enigmatic Adam too. Still, she had to admit that there was something _special _about the traveller that she couldn't ignore, as hard as she tried. She didn't know what the nature of this curse was, or what he was hiding from them exactly but she was determined to find out.

"Adam?" she said presently as she took a step forward.

"Mmm?"

"I was wondering if we could visit a town today? My father and I only brought enough food for a few days and could get some more supplies before we continue."

Adam chucked another stone into the water before he answered her. "Very well."

"Thank you," she replied. She watched him throw another rock into the water before she decided to break the silence and join him. "Here," she said as she picked up a flat rock, "Try skipping them like this."

She flicked her wrist out, letting the stone bounce in a graceful arc across the pond. Their reflection warped together under the ripples and Adam found himself thinking about how much simpler things would be right now if Belle had just confessed her love when she still had the chance, how they could be celebrating back at the castle right now, not reduced to tossing pebbles in a pond in the middle of a forest.

The problem was that this was all the doing of an enchantress. She had been the master over them all, the one who had put him and Belle together in this emotional sphere so they could learn to love each other and he could become human again. After all that, how did he know that those things he felt for Belle were actually _real? _How could he know that he wasn't a puppet to the whims of magic spell that this love wasn't just a manifestation of something desperate, something _bad? __  
><em>

The answer was lost to him, fading as quickly as ripples on the surface of a pond. After a minute he turned around and told Belle he was going back to the campsite.

* * *

><p>It was mid-afternoon when Belle stopped Philippe on the middle of the trail they were riding on, picking up a strange smell in the air. "What is that?" she asked, concerned.<p>

"It smells like smoke," Adam answered.

"Maybe someone's having a bonfire," Maurice suggested.

"It's too early for a bonfire, Papa," Belle replied with a frown.

The smell only seemed to grow stronger as they rode down the trail. A grey cloud began to rise from the east side of the forest and Belle exchanged worried looks with her father. They had seen that kind of cloud in a village they had once lived in some years before and it could only mean one thing: something was burning, something big.

The next minute Belle urged Philippe off the trail and into the forest.

"Wait, where are you going?!" Adam called out to them.

"Follow me!" Belle shouted back.

It was just as she feared. Past the woods, at the centre of a large field was a burning farmhouse; smoke rising from the roof and the windows like a giant steaming tea pot. No sooner had Adam stopped his horse next to the two of them when a man and woman came bursting through the front door, the woman carrying a crying toddler in her arms.

"No, NO!" she screamed as the man pushed her away from the house. "Francis, we have to go back!"

"There's no use Irène," Francis said, clutching at his chest as he knelt down in the grass. It's...too dangerous."

"But Edgar is still in there! We can't just leave him!"

"What happened? Are you alright?" Belle asked.

Upon hearing her voice, Irène spun around, looking both surprised and relieved to see the three travellers who had come to their rescue. "Oh mademoiselle, it was terrible," she explained in hysterical sobs. "I turned my back on the stove just for one minute, and the next moment the whole kitchen was on fire! I got my husband and our daughter out but our son - he went back for his spinning top and we couldn't find him."

"Calm down," Belle said reassuringly. "Do you have a well or anything we can use to douse the fire with?"

"Are you mad girl?" said Francis. "There's no way we can put the fire out now, it's huge! I'd go back if I could, but my heart..." he winced as he clutched at his chest.

Adam bit his lip with worry. He knew Belle had good intentions in wanting to put out the fire first, but the father was right. The boy might be dead before they even got enough water to extinguish the flames, and his father looked just as terrible as Maurice did when he was sick. He might _die_ if he tried to go back in there to find him!

The next moment, he dismounted his horse and ran towards the burning building. Belle didn't even have time to shout out his name before he ran through the front door and disappeared into the smoke.

* * *

><p>The prince would never exactly know what possessed him to run into that fire without considering his odds of survival first. He was no longer a Beast he realized, capable of throwing away wolves with his bare hands and swimming into strong currents of water to save Belle from drowning, he was a human being and he was vulnerable. One look at his surroundings and it occurred to him he might just <em>die <em>from this. A muddy veil of smoke obscured his vision. The only things he could see were dark shapes and flames popping out from his surroundings.

"Hello?" he said with a cough as he put a hand over his mouth. "Hello!?"

"_Who are you?" the prince asked as he shielded his eyes from the blinding light. _

"_I am the same woman who you cast away but a moment ago, or do you not remember?" _

_The prince realized his fault and knelt down in terror. "Please! Forgive me. Take whatever you want, the castle the servants, I'll do anything!" _

"_It is too late for forgiveness, dear prince. I have been watching your actions for a long time now and I know that there is no love in your heart."_

A piece of the ceiling collapsed beside him. He jumped to the side as red embers went flying, the heat so intense that he could feel it burning holes in the side of his cloak. He wondered if he should leave now before it was too late. But then he heard it, a faint voice against the roaring fire.

"Help me!"

"Where are you?" he shouted back.

"Over here!"

He turned around to see the shape of a boy peering behind the corner of what may have been a table once. "I'm coming!" he said to him. He was only a few feet away from him when a huge beam from the ceiling came crashing down; the impact was so intense it sent him flying backwards.

"_You have been deceived by your own cold heart. You exploit your servants and look only outside and not within. And so dear prince, I place a curse upon your house and all within it. Until you have found someone to love you as you are, you shall remain forever a beast."_

_The light was making his eyes water. He heard himself scream. It felt like his whole body was burning...burning away into something terrifying, something otherworldly._

"Monsieur? Monsieur! It hurts, help!" the boy shouted.

It took a while for the prince to lift his head up. The smoke was making him drowsy and he had to shield his eyes from the surrounding flames in order to see the hole in the floor in front of him. At the edge of the hole he could just make out the boy holding on to the edge of a broken floorboard to save himself from falling into the cellar. He crawled forward to reach for him, and that was when he heard a terrible snapping noise above him - the ceiling was about to collapse!

"Come on!" he shouted to the boy. His grabbed his wrist but his hands were too sweaty, he was going to slip! With one mighty tug he pulled him out of the hole and rolled to the side just as the ceiling crashed down behind them. The boy whimpered, and the prince gently put a hand on his shoulder trying his best to calm him. "I'm going to get you out of here," he told him. "Understand?"

The boy bit his lip and nodded. The prince picked him up and looked around frantically before spotting a window beyond the fire just large enough for him to jump through. "Look away," he told the boy. He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, took a few large steps backwards and then sprinted towards the window, dodging a passing flame and jumping through the pane, on to the grass.

And the outside air had never felt so sweet.

_I did it, _he thought with relief, as he gasped for air. _I actually did it! _He gently touched the shoulder of the boy who was lying beside him. "Are you alright?"

"I...I think so," he replied.

The prince heard footsteps coming towards them and sat up to throw his hood over his face as the boy ran to meet his parents. "Maman! Papa!"

"Oh Edgar!" Irène exclaimed as she fixed her son in a tight embrace. "Thank goodness you're alright! Don't you _ever_ run back for your toys like that again, do you hear? And you -" She turned to Adam, "You saved our son's life! How can we ever repay you?"

Before the prince could answer a large bang resounded from inside the house. Everyone cringed. When they turned around again they could see that the west wall of the house had collapsed, taking a large chunk of the roof and the fence along with it.

"How about we get you and your children somewhere safe," Adam said as the baby started to cry from the blast. "We can discuss compensations later."

"My brother's farm is just next door, they can take us," Francis said, "With any luck they'll have seen the smoke already and are on their way to us right now."

They all agreed that this was the best thing to do. Maurice had to give Belle a nudge before they made their way across the field, because she could not take her eyes off Adam the entire time.


	14. Company

They were only halfway across the field when a farmer with grey hair came running towards them, relieved to see that they had made it out of the fire safely.

"Brother!" he exclaimed as he hugged Francis. "Thank goodness, I was afraid I'd come too late. Clothilde called me from the fields to tell me she saw smoke. I came as quickly as I could. Is everyone all right?"

"We're all fine, Damien, thanks to this brave young man here," Francis said as he gestured to Adam. "He rescued our son just before the house collapsed."

"A godsend," Damien said as he nodded at the prince. "Thank you so much for helping my family, monsieur." He then turned back to his brother. "The boys are just getting the horses out from the stables. Once they're here, we'll ride over and put the fire out."

"Can I come too, Papa?" asked Edgar. "I wanna help save the house!"

"Absolutely _not,_ Edgar!" Francis said sternly. "You're already in enough trouble as it is. You will stay with your mother and sister at your aunt's house until we've put out the fire. Our new friends can come along with you as well."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Belle said, embarrassed. "We only came by to help."

"Nonsense!" said Damien. He suddenly caught sight of three teenage boys on horseback in the distance and waved them over. "Léon, Courtney, Conrad, _allons! – _It's no trouble for us, mademoiselle. We are indebted to you. Stay at least so we can discuss a way for us to thank you properly."

Belle was reluctant to accept the family invitation, but at the same time she knew that it would be rude to refuse when they were so insistent on having them. They did seem like nice people after all. They agreed, and as Francis and Damien joined up with the boys, Belle, her father and Adam followed Irène and her children to another farmhouse where they were greeted by Damien's wife Clothilde, a middle-aged woman with dishwater blonde hair. Once Irène introduced them, Clothilde directed them to the stables to drop off their horses and then brought them into the house to offer them something to drink.

"Are you sure you're all right, young man?" was the first thing she asked Adam.

"I'm fine, really," he replied. He had barely been singed from the fire, and even though he felt dizzy earlier, it had passed once they had got away from the smoke. He did have some burnt holes in his cloak, however, which Clothilde was quick to notice.

"Maybe I should give you a new one," she suggested.

"Oh, no, thank you. That's not necessary."

"It's no trouble," she assured him. "I live in a house with three growing boys; we have more than enough clothing to go around. I think we have a cloak in this exact colour, in fact. Wait here."

She went upstairs and returned a few minutes later with a black cloak very similar to the one he was wearing. "This is Conrad's old cloak," she explained as she held it out to him. "He's roughly the same height as you. I'm sure it will fit. If you go upstairs to the last door on the right, there's a mirror you can see yourself in."

"Thank you," the prince said reluctantly. He took the piece of clothing and went upstairs to change. The hood was smaller than his old cloak's, but it still covered his eyes, which was the important thing.

Once he came back downstairs, Belle and Maurice introduced themselves properly to the two wives, explaining that they were villagers on their way to visit a relative of theirs in Saint-Jean-le-Blanc.

"Saint Jean?" Irène sounded surprised. "That's close to Orléans, isn't it? That's quite a distance to travel by horseback."

"Well, yes," Belle replied, "But –,"

"We thought now would be a good opportunity to see her since the snow has melted," Maurice finished. He thought it was better that they left Gaston out of the picture for now. "We've wanted to see her for some time, but we've never really had a chance to until now."

Irène and Clothilde seemed to find nothing odd about Maurice's story, for soon they changed the subject, telling the party about the difficulties they had had on the farm the past summer due to the drought, which had left them with very little money to last through the winter. It had especially been difficult for Francis because of his heart problems, and many times Irène had insisted on staying with him while he harvested the crops for fear that he would collapse in the field without anyone noticing. The prince found himself feeling sorry for the family, knowing that looking after the well-being of his people would be one thing he would have to take charge of once he took up the throne. He wondered vaguely how his uncle was doing in Blois, and what his reaction would be once Cogsworth and Lumiere dispatched the letter to tell him his nephew was still alive. That day was not too far off now, he realized, as they were only a few days away from reaching Belle's aunt in Saint-Jean-le-Blanc.

At long last Francis, Damien and the three boys returned to the house, covered in ash but otherwise unharmed. "We weren't able to save anything from the house," Francis said to his wife regretfully. "But we got all the livestock rounded up safely into Damien's barn at least, so no one will steal them."

"Will your family stay here until you can repair the house?" Belle asked curiously.

"For now," said Francis. "I can't imagine it will be for very long though. We have a good community here who will help us rebuild. Besides, a building can be replaced, but not a family. Which brings us to a more important question." He turned to Adam. "How can we repay you for saving our son?"

The prince hesitated. He didn't really need anything, and he felt uncomfortable asking Francis for money considering he had just lost his entire home in a fire. "If you could direct us to the closest village," he said. "We could really use some more supplies for our journey."

"Ah, perfect!" Damien exclaimed. "Bridoré is only two miles away from here. You might want to hurry though. There's going to be a big wedding over there for our blacksmith and baker's son and daughter this afternoon and they'll be closing down all the shops early for the reception."

"A baker's family, you say?" Maurice commented. "There must be _a lot _of food there."

"Oh, for sure, monsieur," Francis smiled. "Baguettes, croissants, pastries, croquembouche, anything you can think of! You can say that the entire family has gone out for the occasion."

"Perhaps you should come with us," Irène suggested, "We can tell them that you're our guests. The whole town will be there. I'm sure they'd be happy to have you."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," said Belle. It would be nice to eat something other than dry bread and water for a change.

And so it was settled. The three travellers would do their shopping in Bridoré and then meet with Francis and his family at four in the square to go to the wedding together.

At the village, the prince spoke very little as he followed Belle and Maurice from shop to shop. He had a feeling that someone had spread the word around that he had saved Francis's son from a fire, because the grocer, baker and butcher were all extremely helpful to Belle and her father, ensuring that they had all the food and supplies they needed for their journey. Bridoré didn't have a bookshop, much to Belle's disappointment, but they did have a general store with a shelf containing a few dusty covers. One that caught her eye was called _Metamorphosis _written by a Roman poet named Ovide. It looked like an interesting read, but after finishing the first part; _Creation, _she put it back on the shelf, knowing that she couldn't afford it. But the prince couldn't get over how disappointed she looked as she walked out of the store, and so bought the book himself while she went to check on Philippe. Maybe he'd slip it into her bag as a parting gift once they made it to Saint Jean's.

After they were done stocking up on supplies, they met up with Francis's family again in the town square to go to the wedding reception. As they heard from Irène, both the bride and groom's parents had been preparing for this wedding for many years, and it showed in the work they had put into the reception. Flowers and trellises had been placed all around the outside of the baker's house. There were tables full of delicious food and ale, a band of musicians to perform for the guests, and the bride and groom were both as young and lovely as could be.

While Belle and Maurice went to get food, the prince sat at a bench and watched the townspeople dancing in front of him. It came as no surprise that he had never been to a peasant's wedding before. His parents used to host balls at the castle when he was a boy, but those were dull social events they arranged for diplomatic reasons, not huge celebrations like this one. Considering the years he had spent alone in his castle, he found himself feeling very uncomfortable around the boisterous crowd and drunken men, and sincerely hoped that Belle and her father wouldn't be staying here for too long.

"Hey, look Michelle!" a voice exclaimed. The prince looked over his shoulder to see Edgar coming towards him with a younger girl who he assumed was from the village. "That's the man who rescued me!"

"Wow!" Michelle said with wide eyes. "You must have been very brave, monsieur."

"Brave? I should say so! He ran into a fire all by himself. He's a hero!"

_A hero? _The prince tilted his head slightly. He had never exactly been called _that_ before.

"Were you scared?" the girl asked curiously.

"A little," the prince admitted, "But…I guess when you're my age you start to realize that there are bigger things out there to be afraid of."

"Like what?"

"Edgar!" Irène called suddenly. "Come try some of these baguettes, before they're all gone."

"Okay maman!" Edgar shouted back_. "Au revoir,_ monsieur, thank you for saving me!"

"_Au revoir!_" the girl repeated.

No sooner had the two children left when Belle sat down next to the prince with a tray of baked goods.

"Would you like a pastry?" she said, offering him one.

He politely took one from the tray. "Thank you."

"So what do you think of the wedding?" she asked him casually as he ate.

"It's hard for me to say," he admitted. "I don't usually attend weddings like these."

"No country weddings where you come from?"

"No, not exactly."

"Am I _ever_ going to find out where you're from?"

He shook his head. "As I said before, it's not worth talking about."

Belle sighed. It seemed that no matter how much she tried, Adam didn't want to give out _any _back story about himself whatsoever. This bothered her less than before though. He'd risked his life to save a boy from a fire, he had a whole family indebted to him, and yet he brushed the whole thing off as though it were nothing. He was the complete opposite of Gaston, and she found she liked him _more_ because of that. "That was a very brave thing you did for that family," she said to him. "Why did you do it?"

Adam paused before answering. "I'm not sure." Truthfully, he wasn't sure if he _had _an answer to that. He'd been so focused on the danger of the situation, he'd never thought about _why _he had to save the boy, only that he needed to get him out. "Their son was going to die," he explained simply. "I saw how scared his parents looked and I knew I had to do something about it." It was the plainest explanation he could give, and yet even then, it didn't sound quite right. He knew he wouldn't have done the same thing when he had locked Belle's father in a dungeon six months ago.

While it didn't make much sense to Adam, it seemed to make sense to Belle. "You know, Adam," she continued with a smile. "I feel that I owe you an apology. You saved me from my marriage to Gaston, you've gone out of your way to bring my father and me to safety, you've saved a little boy from a fire, and well..." She paused. "I haven't exactly been very nice to you. So I just want to say I'm sorry."

The prince was in disbelief. She was apologizing to him for_ that? _Suddenly, his attention shifted as the musicians started up a new dance piece. He turned his head to see one of Damien's sons eyeing up Belle in a way that made him realize that if he didn't act soon, he might be missing a seatmate. He quickly got to his feet. "Would you like to dance, mademoiselle?" he asked Belle tentatively.

She looked at him in surprise. He could dance? "Sure."

Slowly, he took her hand and guided her to the lawn with the other dancers. It suddenly struck him exactly how different her hand felt in his now. When he was a Beast, her hands had felt as light as a flower petal. He always had to be extra careful whenever he held her, knowing that any sudden movements could break her. Now, as a human, his hands still outsized hers, but he could feel an extra weight and smoothness in her hands that wasn't there before. _"For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss," _as Belle had read to him in a book once.

Of course, Belle didn't notice any of this. As they turned to face one another he realized that she was expecting him to lead her, and so he pulled her in with a little more force than was necessary and they were off, holding hands and dancing with the other villagers.

The dance was awkward to say the least. Although the prince found it a lot easier to move around Belle now that they were closer to being the same size, they were still strangers, and this bothered him more than he thought it would. He remembered when they had danced together almost a week ago, how her beautiful smile was the only thing that kept him moving across the ballroom floor and not feeling like an oversized idiot. Now, she was hardly looking at him, and with Maurice watching them he had to force himself to refrain from putting his hand on her waist or doing anything else that might make them seem more than friendly acquaintances.

After a minute or so Belle became more comfortable and looked up, but instead of focusing on Adam, her attention turned to the bride and groom who had stopped in mid-dance to share a kiss.

"What is it?" Adam asked, feeling a need to start some sort of conversation between them.

"Look at how happy they are," she replied wistfully as she nodded at the couple. "Gaston and I wouldn't be like that our wedding. He would be showing me off like a new trophy to every person in the village. I'd never get a word in for myself. But them, they're both equals. They're exactly how a married couple should be. "

She looked away, and the prince bit his lip anxiously. For a moment he wanted to tell her how he had believed in the same thing once. He had thought that once he was human, he and Belle would be equals, and he would be able to pay her back for everything she'd given him and more. But that was before he remembered that the only reason she _was _staying with him was because of her father. It wasn't a prince she needed; it was the _freedom_ that had been taken from her. Even now he would not let himself regret his decision to let her go. But one question still lingered and he knew he might never know the answer unless he asked her now. "If you found someone who could make you happy, would you stay with him?" he said tentatively.

Belle paused for a moment before answering. There was someone of course, someone who haunted her dreams on a nightly basis, but she could never speak of him to anyone. "Yes," she said slowly, "But - ah!" Suddenly she tripped on an uneven patch of ground and stumbled backwards. Adam quickly caught her on her back as she grabbed his left forearm to balance herself.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes. Sorry."

Her heart began to race as her hand moved up to rest on his shoulder. She was so close to him now that she could see almost all the details of his face; a strong chin, full lips, a long nose, peachy stubble. The only thing she couldn't see was his eyes that disappeared into the shadows of his cloak like a dark secret he was determined to keep from the rest of the world...

The song came to an end almost without warning. Belle she found herself back on her feet, though she couldn't remember standing up.

"Thank you for the dance, mademoiselle." Adam said brusquely.

It wasn't until several minutes after he walked back into the crowd that she realized the steps they had danced were almost the exact same steps she had once danced with the Beast.

* * *

><p>"Damn it!" Gaston shouted.<p>

LeFou coughed up the soil the hunter had just thrown at his face. "Not - here?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, they were here," Gaston replied angrily as he got to his feet. "At least _six hours ago!"_

"Oh." LeFou frowned. "Well I guess that's better than nothing, right?"

He let out a yelp of surprise as Gaston grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt so they were looking at each other face-to-face. "It would have been six minutes ago or less, if you had woken me up yesterday. Why did you let me drink so much?"

"Well, don't look at me, I didn't know!" LeFou stammered back nervously. "I just thought you were having a good time with that lady, and that I shouldn't bother you."

"You shouldn't bother me?" Gaston repeated. "Belle and Maurice might be halfway across the province by now. What kind of a lackey are you?"

He dropped LeFou to the ground just as his stallion let out a high-pitched whinny behind him. "Not you too, André," he groaned as he stormed over to him. "What's your problem now?"

"Well, you know, Gaston, he usually doesn't usually travel for this long without a break," LeFou pointed out. He was a stronger horse than Belle and Maurice's trait breton, that was for sure, but even LeFou had noticed that he'd been moving a lot slower in the past couple days. "Maybe we should find a town and let him rest for a bit. Besides, we _do _kinda need some more supplies -"

"There's no time!" Gaston snapped. He turned to André and touched his ear. "Listen, buddy. I will give you all the oats you want when we get back to Molyneaux. But now, we have to find Belle so we can get her back for _my _wedding. Is that so hard for everyone? _Is it?!"_

When nobody said anything he smiled. "Good." He pulled LeFou up by his head and tossed him into the saddle. He already had one man and one Beast standing in the way of him getting Belle; he certainly wasn't going to let his own horse and lackey slow him down next.

* * *

><p>As they rode through the forest, LeFou took a moment to reflect on how <em>different <em>Gaston had been acting since they had left the cottage. Before, he had seemed so confident that he would find Belle, but now even the tiniest sound of LeFou doing something wrong, like snapping a twig or stepping on dried leaves, was enough to throw him into a raging temper. Of course, LeFou had always been a bit of a klutz when it came to following Gaston around on his hunting trips, but he'd never seen him _this _mad before. He wondered if Gaston needed more rest than he and André did, but they'd already lost so much time. Maybe Gaston was right; maybe they should keep moving. He was _sure _they would find Belle soon. After all, there were only so many places that hooded guy could hide her, right?

Fifteen minutes later, they heard voices coming down the trail. LeFou pricked his ears, wondering anxiously if it was Belle, but then he heard what they were saying and knew that it wasn't.

"It's no use, Christelle. We'll just have to walk back and see if anyone can help us."

"Poor Tante Marie. She'll be wondering if we got lost."

LeFou and Gaston turned the corner to see a man and a woman standing beside a wagon which looked to have fallen into a ditch. The girl had a garland of blue and white flowers in her hair which made LeFou think she had just come back from her wedding.

"Well, hello, hello," Gaston said with a smug smile as he rode over to them.

"Oh, monsieur!" the man exclaimed in relief, "Can you help us?"

"Of course. What seems to be the problem?"

"I wasn't looking where I was steering," the man explained as he pointed to the wagon. "I understand if you have to be elsewhere, but we are expected by our relatives in Valleres by sundown tonight. Could give us a hand, _peut-être?"_

"Hmm." Gaston smiled, flexing his biceps enough to ensure that the bride was paying attention. "I think I can."

Less than ten minutes later, they both had the wagon out of the ditch and back on the path. The groom smiled at Gaston graciously after. "Thank you so much, monsieur."

Gaston nodded and then turned his attention over to the bride again. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?" he said.

The groom frowned slightly as he put his arm around his bride, not liking the way Gaston was looking at her. "Yes, monsieur. She's my _wife_. We just got married."

"Well, congratulations to you both," Gaston said dryly. "You know, I was engaged to be married to a girl back in my village, but she was taken away from me."

"Taken away? Oh, that's terrible!" Christelle said in shock.

"I know." Gaston tried his best to sound brokenhearted. "_Terrible._ All I know is that I have to find her before it's too late. I've been looking _everywhere _for her. Maybe you've seen her?"

"Oh, I don't know, monsieur," the groom said skeptically. "We haven't seen many people on the road today."

"Are you _really _sure?" Gaston persisted. "She'd be wearing a blue dress and would be with an old man and a man with a black cloak."

At that, Christelle's mouth hung open in shock. She had seen someone like that, at _their _wedding not even a few hours ago!

"If you've seen anything, _anything_," Gaston continued in a pleading voice, "please tell me. I've worked so _hard_ to get her to marry me; I just _have _to get her back. Wouldn't you do the same if your bride had been stolen?"

"Oh, just tell him, Jérôme," said Christelle. "What a terrible thing the poor man must have to go through, just to find his love!"

Jérôme glared at his wife and then looked back at Gaston. "They're in Bridoré," he told him. "If you continue on this path and follow the signs, you should be there by nightfall."

"Bridoré," Gaston nodded, "Thank you."

He mounted his horse again, giving the young bride a quick wink before he rode off. It seemed that things were finally going _right_ for him for a change.


	15. Dreams

That evening, rather than continue straight on the road, Adam decided it would be better to let the horses rest for the night and check into a local inn so they could head out first thing in the morning. At Bridoré's tavern they paid for two rooms; one for Adam, one for Belle and Maurice and then hung around the bar with some wedding after partiers and a group of inventors returning back from a fair up in Rigny-le-Haut.

"Well speak of the devil, Maurice!" one of the gentlemen said once he saw Belle's father. "We were just wondering why you weren't at the fair last fall. Why don't you come and sit with us so we can catch up?"

"Well now," Maurice replied, embarrassed. "I..."

"Go ahead, Papa," Belle said with a laugh, "I don't think you're sick anymore."

Maurice smiled. "On my way then!"

Unfortunately for the prince this meant that he was left alone with Belle, _again. _Thankfully, he was able to avoid initiating what was sure to be another awkward conversation with her by finding a chessboard at an unused table.

"Do you play?" he asked as he gestured to it.

"No," she replied. "Not really."

It occurred to him that he had never played a match with her during their time at the castle. He found this strange considering that chess was a game he would often play with the servants to pass the time when he was in one of his better moods. He supposed he focused so much on doing things related to Belle's interests when she was his prisoner, the idea of asking her to play a game with him had slipped his mind. "Come on then," he said. "I'll show you."

He spent fifteen minutes teaching her how to set up the board and walking her through how each of the pieces worked before they started playing. Belle was a fast learner; but after years of playing the game, it soon became clear who had the upper hand.

"Checkmate," he said an hour later as he put his castle down beside Belle's black king.

"Oh," Belle said in surprise. "I didn't even see that!"

"Your mistake was when you left your back row open," he explained as he pointed to the board. "Now if you'd moved _this_ pawn up first you could have saved your king before I took your knight out with my castle."

"Oh!" Belle said, mentally scolding herself. This game certainly was a lot harder than it looked. A part of her wondered where Adam had learned to play it so well, considering most men in her village would hardly have the patience for it. Especially Gaston.

"Hello there, you two," Maurice interrupted as he approached their table.

"Hello Papa," said Belle. "How are Monsieur Berger and Favre doing?"

"Good, good," he nodded. "They're just turning in for the night, but they gave me some _grand _suggestions for tweaking up that old woodchopper machine. In fact, I'm thinking that if I persuade Marguerite enough she'll let me use her cellar so I can rebuild it in time to enter for the spring fair next month!"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" Belle exclaimed. She knew that her aunt wasn't really fond of her father's inventions, but if she let him use the space and he won first prize at the fair they could buy their own home in Orléans and wouldn't have to be a nuisance to her anymore. They could start a new life together just as they'd talked about before.

"Well, I think I'm going to turn in now," Maurice continued. "But you two can continue your game. Goodnight Belle. Adam."

"Goodnight, Papa. Don't forget to take your medicine."

As Belle watched her father go upstairs it suddenly occurred to her that they were only three days away from reaching Saint-Jean-le-Blanc. This saddened her a little. On one hand, this meant that they would finally be safe from Gaston. On the other hand, there would be no more adventuring and no more getting to know the mysterious Adam either.

"I can't believe how close we are," she said as she turned back to him. "It's been so long since I last saw my aunt, I'm a bit anxious about what she'll say when we show up on her doorstep."

"What is your aunt like anyway?" Adam asked her curiously. She had never spoken of her family much back at the castle.

"She's like…," she wanted to say Cogsworth for a moment but realized Adam wouldn't know who that was. "She's a strict, no-nonsense person," she said instead. "Still, Papa and I owe a lot to her. She took care of us and helped my father get back on his feet after my mother passed away. She was sick for a long time you see."

"I'm very sorry."

"That's alright," she smiled. "I miss her a lot sometimes, but I know inside that she's still with us." She wondered if she could say the same thing about someone else she knew, but quickly shoved the thought aside. Now was not the time to bring _that _up.

"So what are you going to do after you drop us off?" she asked Adam as they began to reassemble the chessboard. "Find your enchantress?"

"That is the plan."

"And that girl of yours? Do you think you'll ever see her again?"

At that, Adam froze. He had almost forgotten about the story he had told Belle during that thunderstorm, and now was mentally kicking himself for bringing it up when he did. "No," he told her simply. "I imagine she's far happier now than she was before. She doesn't need me interfering with her life, again."

"You could write her a letter just to ask how she's doing," she suggested. "Maybe she misses you and has been thinking about you and where you've gone to since you both...parted ways."

He shook his head. "I doubt it."

"But what if –?"

"Look," he snapped. "I know what you're trying to suggest, and it's not going to happen. Life doesn't always play out as perfectly as the way it does in your fairy tales you know!"

He immediately regretted the words the moment he spoke them. "I'm sorry," he said as he sank back in his chair.

"No, it's alright, I shouldn't have pried, I'm sorry," said Belle. "But I'm confused. I don't think I ever mentioned to you that I liked to read fairy tales."

At that, the prince was silent. Why had he said that? Of course she had never mentioned it to him, they were supposed to be _strangers! _"You left your satchel open when we were back in the clearing," he said, thinking of a quick excuse. "I saw some fairytale books in there and assumed that they belonged to you."

Belle reached into her bag beside the chair and dropped her copy of _Cinderella_ on the table. He was right of course; she had packed a few books with her before they left Molyneaux. She knew they were impractical to carry, but she couldn't just leave them there; they were the only memento of her mother she had left. "Fairy tales always used to be a refuge for me when I was a child," she explained to him. "My mother used to read them to me all the time and when she died, they were the only thing that made me feel like she was still with me. But I'm curious. Why do you think love isn't like it is in the fairy tales?"

Adam sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He had started this discussion, there was no way of getting around it now, especially talking with somebody as inquisitive as Belle. "In all the fairy tales love comes so easily," he explained. "The prince slays the dragon and the princess is his, end of story. But real love isn't like that. Love is about losing everything, sacrificing everything, giving your all to someone and never getting anything back. Most of the time you don't even get what you wanted in the end."

Belle frowned. "You make love sound like it is a terrible, complicated thing," she commented.

"Well it isn't as perfect as it is in the fairy tales if that's what you think. Not for everyone anyway."

She tilted her head curiously, willing him to go on.

'The last time I was with that girl, she told me something, something I knew all along and just never wanted to acknowledge," he explained. "I wanted uh…to marry her you see. I thought maybe if she stayed with me long enough we could - well she would come to care for me and agree to become my wife. But there was someone - something important she wanted to do. And I knew the only reason she couldn't was because I was standing in her way. I couldn't bear to see her suffering any longer because of me. So I let her go."

Belle looked at him in surprise. "You just...let her go?"

"I had to. I loved her."

Belle was stunned. It was painful enough to be in love with someone who didn't love you back, but to give up the person you loved most knowing you would never see them again? Not only was that sad, that was positively heartbreaking_._ "Well do you still love her?" she asked curiously.

"It's...complicated," he admitted. "All I know is that since we parted ways, I _hate _the idea of being forced to be with someone you don't love. That's why, when I came to your village and heard about you being forced to marry a man who wanted to treat you like a _personal _trophy I knew that I had to do something about it."

Belle was at a loss for words. It felt as though someone had pulled away a dark curtain leaving her to see Adam, _really _see him for the first time. And just like with the Beast, she was genuinely surprised by what she was finding underneath. "Well I'm glad you did. Thank you, Adam."

* * *

><p>Adam's story continued to be on Belle's mind for the rest of the night. When they agreed to turn in she felt reluctant to leave. It felt like they had so much more to talk about and so little time to do so.<p>

"Adam," she said to him as he walked her to her room. "If there's anything I can do to help you find your enchantress -"

"Mademoiselle, the only thing I want you to worry about is choosing carefully the next man you get involved with," Adam replied. "Find someone who will make you happy, not just want you for your looks. Then I will know that I've done _something _right."

For a moment, Belle wanted to tell him the same thing. Just because he had given up his chance to be with one girl didn't have to wander the world alone like this. It not only seemed sad, but unfair too. But she thought it best to keep her thoughts to herself for now. "Yes," she said to him. "I'll do that."

* * *

><p>Back downstairs, the prince pulled off his hood and headed towards the bar table to retrieve his map which he'd forgotten about when he was walking upstairs with Belle.<p>

_Why did you tell her that story you fool?_ he chided as he picked it up from his chair. He was Adam now; he didn't live in the past anymore. Losing a girl because he loved her wasn't supposed to matter, but for one quick second it did, and now it was taking all his willpower to shove the Beast's old feelings beneath him and forget he had ever told her that stupid story. _You're here to lead her to safety, nothing else, _he told himself._ Only three more days. Three more days._

"So when you and the beauty tying the knot?" said a voice.

Startled, the prince turned around to see Damien, looking quite inebriated from celebrating the wedding after party with the other townspeople.

"What?"

"You and that girl! You two are getting married, aren't you?"

"Oh," he replied, "Of course not! I'm just uh...a friend, helping her and her father get to their aunt's."

"Ah, my mistake," Damien laughed. "Just the way you were sitting there talking all cozy-like, I almost thought...well never mind. But here, take my advice, from one man to another. If you love a girl, tell her you do before it's too late. You never know when she might just slip away with another man, and then you'll be wondering why you didn't just talk to her when you still had the chance."

"And if she doesn't love you back?" the prince replied skeptically.

"Hmm, well there's always a risk, isn't there?" he smiled. "But isn't it better to find out now than spend the rest of your life wondering how it could have been if you had just talked to her? I know, many young men have their doubts the first time. Love can be a scary thing and it ain't always pretty either. But if it's the right one it's all worth it in the end, isn't it?"

"I...I guess so." He'd never really thought of it that way before.

"I'm sure it'll turn out alright," Damien said as he pat him on the shoulder. "I can tell just from seeing your face that have nothing to worry about as far as looks are concerned. Well enjoy your stay here monsieur, and if you're ever coming by this way again, know my family's doors will always be open to you."

"Thank you," the prince replied. "And goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He opened the door to leave, and that was when the prince saw a man in a red-shirt hitching his horse outside the tavern: Gaston. His heart dropped into his stomach. He'd found them! But there was still time to hide.

He ran behind the bar counter and not a moment too soon. The door opened, and two sets of heavy footsteps made their way towards the front counter of the tavern.

"_Bonsoir_ monsieur," the tavern keeper said as he stepped out from the back room. "What can I do you in for?" He gave Adam a puzzled expression as he noticed him hiding there, but after a few quick gestures from his hands realized that he didn't want to be seen.

"I'm looking for someone," Gaston's voice explained purposefully. "My wife and her father. They were last seen in this village. My wife would be in a blue dress and her father would be around my friend's height here, except older. Have you seen anyone like that?"

"Can't say I have," the tavern keeper replied with a frown. "All we've had in here tonight are some inventors and townsmen celebrating the wedding of our baker and blacksmith's children. But here, I can check my book for you. Maybe they booked a room with my wife earlier. What are their names?"

"Belle. And her father's name is Maurice."

He nodded and took a moment to go through his logbook for the day. "Doesn't look promising," he said finally. "Last person to check in was a Cyprien Boissel. Do you want to check?"

"LeFou, can you read that?"

"It just looks like a bunch of squiggles to me, Gaston!"

"Hmm. Well I guess we'll have to take his word then."

"I'm very sorry," the tavern keeper apologized. "Perhaps they went over to Verneuil-sur-Indre, that's the next town over. It's less than an hour from here on horseback. You can check their tavern."

"I guess that's our best chance now," said Gaston. "They must have just passed through here. Come on, LeFou."

A moment later the door closed again and the prince breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said to the tavern keeper as he helped him stand up.

"Not the sharpest tool in the shed is he?" the tavern keeper replied. "I didn't want to ask, but I don't think that gentleman had the faintest idea how to read my logbook, he looked as though he was afraid of catching his death when I offered it to him."

"I'm not surprised," said the prince. "He hates reading."

"He mentioned he was looking for his wife. Is that your girl?"

"Yes," he replied. "But she's not his wife, she's his ex-fiancée. It's a very long story."

"Well maybe it's better if I don't ask then," said the tavern keeper. "You've paid for board here, so by all means you have the right to feel safe here. Just so long as I don't have to drag out any dead bodies..."

The prince sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.

* * *

><p>Alone in her room, Belle undressed and sat on her bed, thinking about everything she had learned about Adam in the past few hours. She didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to like him. He was selfless, noble and in some ways, many ways he reminded her of her Beast.<p>

"_There was someone - something important she wanted to do. And I knew the only reason she couldn't was because I was standing in the way. I couldn't bear to see her suffering any longer. So I let her go." _

"_You just...let her go?" _

"_I had to. I loved her."_

Back at the castle, Belle and the Beast had never really talked about love. If they did _love _each other it was strictly platonic; friendship with an extra bit of fondness added in. But that night, their last night together, something _different_ had happened. Belle still could see in her mind the dejected look on Beast's face as she touched his cheek before going off to find her father. She may not have understood why he looked that way then, but now, after piecing together all the clues and hearing Adam's story she was slowly coming to see the truth: The Beast had_ loved_ her. He had wanted her to stay, for reasons still unclear to her, but knowing that her father needed her he had freed her without any strings attached.

Just realizing this now was enough to make her feel as though the Beast had died all over again. He had given her back her freedom and what had she done in return? Lost his mirror to Gaston, sent a whole mob of angry villagers to his castle, taken his life away from him.

And now, she was starting to see pieces of him in somebody else.

_She was walking alone in the black forest, searching for something, but what she didn't know what. The trees were tall and skeletal-looking and the ground was a hazy mist, preventing her from seeing anything within an arm's length in front or behind her._

_Suddenly, she jumped as she heard a twig snapping behind her. She began to walk faster. Someone, or something was following her._

"_Who's there?" she called out as she spun around in raised alarm. She only had to wait a moment before a figure loomed out of the fog:_ _the Beast, only blood stained his fur and his eyes were as white as eggshells. _

_"Get out," he said in a low growl._

"_Wait," she pleaded. "I'm sorry!"_

"_I said GET OUT!" He raised a paw towards her and she screamed and ran in the opposite direction. She could hear his terrible roars as he tailed after her, but somehow she was running faster, tearing through the trees as though she were nothing more than a phantom..._

_And then the floor behind her vanished. She screamed and fell, down, down, down, down, and that was when a hand reached out to grab her._ _She caught a glimpse of an ocean several feet beneath her before they pulled her on to the edge of the cliff._

_It was the red-haired man._

_"You have to go back," he told her as he let go of her arm. _

_"Go back?" she repeated in disbelief. "I can't go back! Not until you tell me who you are."_

_"But you already know who I am Belle. You just haven't let yourself see it."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Suddenly the sun rose on the horizon and she gasped as she saw his face. He was the man in the painting, the same man she had seen in the West Wing all those months before. _

"_Belle," he said as he looked at her with his deep, blue eyes. "It's me."_

_He took her hands and her fear quickly ebbed away into realization. "It is you!" _

"It is you."

* * *

><p>"Adam? Monsieur Adam? It's Maurice! Please answer the door!"<p>

The prince groggily reached for his cloak and stumbled through his unlit room before finding the door handle and twisting it open. Out in the hallway stood Maurice, and he looked positively terrified.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's Belle. She's gone missing!"

Hearing the words 'Belle' and 'missing' the prince was suddenly wide-awake. "What?!"

"Her bed is empty," Maurice continued, speaking rapidly. "I thought I'd wait to see if she'd gone to use the bath, but it's been over half an hour and she still isn't back yet!"

The prince lifted his brows in worry. That didn't sound like Belle at all. For the past few days she'd never left her father's side. It wasn't like her to leave him without any explanation. "Check your room again and see if she's left anything," he told him. "I'll go downstairs and check the stables."

What he found in the stables only seemed increased his worry. Philippe was missing from his stall and upon seeing his master Magnifique nickered at him anxiously. "Where did she go Magnifique?" he asked him as he rubbed his nose. She had seemed perfectly happy when they'd spoken to each other a few hours ago. Why would she be out riding this late? He returned to the tavern hastily, almost colliding into Maurice at the stairs.

"Well did you find her?" he asked him, worried.

"No. And Philippe is missing."

The old man looked devastated. "Then I'm afraid we're too late. Look at this, I found it next to her bed." He handed the prince a torn piece of parchment. He held it up to the light and read:

_Dear Papa,_

_I'm very sorry, but I have to leave. There's something I have to do, I can't ignore my dreams any longer. Stay in the tavern with Adam. I have left our money in your bag to pay the barman. Don't worry about me, I will return as soon as I've found my answers.  
><em>

_I love you very much,_

_Belle_

"You're certain she wrote this?" the prince said as he looked back at Maurice. "It's not a...a forgery?"

"No, it's definitely her handwriting."

"And she's never mentioned anything about running away?"

"Never!"

He let out a frustrated sigh. Belle had run off to find answers, and he and Maurice had no idea what for or why. He forced himself to read the note again. "_I can't ignore my dreams any longer."_ _What dreams? _he wondered. He remembered their past few nights on the road how he had heard her muttering restlessly, crying out in her sleep. A terrible thought occurred to him. What if?

"Hold this," he said, handing Maurice back the letter. He ran into his room and pulled the magic mirror out of his satchel. "Show me Belle," he commanded. The image changed in a flash of green and there she was; Belle riding at full gallop into the woods with Philippe.

"That mirror," Maurice said in astonishment as he peered under Adam's arm. "Why that's the same contraption that Belle brought back from the castle last week! But how on earth did you get hold of it?"

The prince shoved the mirror back into his bag. "Pack up your things and meet me in the stables in fifteen minutes. We don't have much time."

"But wait! Where is she going?"

He turned around, slowly. "She's going to the castle."


	16. Combat

With every passing minute Belle felt more and more guilty about her decision to leave the tavern. She knew she was taking a big chance after all. She was leaving her Papa behind, and what would Adam say when he found out she had run away after he had promised M. Bouquin he would lead her to safety?

But at the same time, the urgency of her dream pulled her forward. If it was the memory of that girl that had compelled Adam to rescue her from Gaston, then it was the memory of the Beast that was compelling her to ride back to his castle in the dead of night, answering his call...if that indeed was what the dream was telling her to do. Already the details were starting to become fuzzy to her. Somehow, she knew that the Beast wanted her to come back to him, except in her dream he wasn't a Beast, he was a _human, _a young man with long, titian hair and deep blue eyes.

"Why didn't he tell me?" she wondered to herself. In all those quiet moments she'd spent with the Beast, he had never told her anything about his past. The closest he may have may have come to it, she realized, was that night when she had first set foot in the West Wing. She remembered how she had walked in a daze across the broken room, thinking she was in the ruins of what must have been a beautiful bedchamber once. She remembered seeing the remains of a canopy bed covered in furs, a shredded portrait of a boy with startling blue eyes, and an enchanted rose encased in a glass bell jar before he had found her and frightened her off.

"_Do you realize what you could have done?" _he had shouted._ "Get out! GET OUT!"_

What had really happened to him, and why? Did that rose have anything to do with it? All Belle knew was that she had to find the answer, needed to understand this before they went any further. It was the only solution, the only way to stop these dreams that plagued her every night…

Suddenly, Belle was startled from her thoughts as she sensed movement in the trees beside her. A chill ran down her spine. The woods were dangerous to be riding in alone at this time of night, she realized. She thought of the predators her father had warned her about when she was younger – wolves, bears, ruffians – and knew she had no way of defending herself should anything come out to attack her. She urged Philippe to go faster, but already the noises were getting louder. Somebody knew she was here, and they were following her.

Suddenly, a black stallion emerged on the path in front of her. On it were a short man and a tall muscular one in a red shirt: LeFou and Gaston. Her heart practically stopped as she pulled Philippe to a halt. They had found her.

"Well, hello there, Belle," Gaston said, grinning at her haughtily. "I always knew you'd come running back into my arms eventually."

"Gaston," Belle replied in disbelief. "But - how?"

"A good husband _always_ knows how to keep a sharp lookout for his wife," he explained proudly. "I left no clearing unexplored, no stone unturned; I even rode around Bridoré for a few hours in case you just happened to come riding by."

"Actually Gaston, sticking around the village was my idea," LeFou interrupted.

"Shut up!" Gaston snapped as he punched the top of his lackey's head. He then turned back to Belle and smiled. "Now, let's get you back home."

_Home. _Hearing this word, Belle quickly came back to her senses. "No," she said firmly.

"No?" Gaston repeated, as though he had never heard the word before.

"I'm _not _going back."

"Belle, in case you've forgotten now, you agreed to marry me. You gave me your _word._"

"You killed the Beast, and you would have done the same to my father if I didn't consent," she retorted. "Do you think I'd actually _want _to marry you after that? Do you think anyone would? You might think what you've done is right, but I know the truth; you're nothing more than a monster. And I will never _ever _forgive you for what you've done!"

Gaston's dark brows drew together in rage. How _dare _his wife speak to him that way, after all the work he'd done just to find her and _rescue _her! She should be grateful to him, practically leaping into his arms after all the trouble he'd gone through for her. Instead, she was more stubborn and unappreciative than ever! "It's clear to me that your time in the forest has made you forget your place, Belle," he said. "The point is that you belong to me now, whether you like it or not. And if I say we're going home..." He grabbed her by her arm. "...we're going home."

"No!" Belle shouted. "Let go of me!" But despite her efforts to break free, Gaston's grip on her remained strong. A part of her couldn't help but feel angry at herself. Gaston was going to take her back to Molyneaux, and her father and Adam had no idea she had even left the tavern yet. Why on earth did she think that riding alone in the woods in the middle of the night was such a good idea?

But unbeknownst to her, help was already on the way. Gaston hadn't yet managed to get her off Philippe when a new rider arrived on the path. "Let go of her this instant!" Adam shouted, almost throwing Maurice off his saddle from stopping Magnifique so abruptly.

"Adam! Papa!" Belle cried. Never in her life had she been so happy to see them.

Gaston sneered as he loosened his grip on Belle's arm. "Why, if it isn't the bookkeeper's little accomplice," he said to Adam. "Tell me, have you shown my fiancée 'the Beast's body' yet?"

"The _Beast's _body?" Belle repeated. Adam _knew _about the Beast?

"I said, let her go," Adam said, ignoring Gaston's question.

Gaston laughed. "And who's going to stop me?" With one sweeping gesture, he reached down and brandished his blunderbuss at Adam and Maurice. Maurice's face turned milk-white as he stared at the weapon. Even the prince, who wanted nothing more than to beat Gaston to a pulp, began to hold up his reins tensely, knowing he wouldn't get very far when he was unarmed.

"That's right." Gaston smiled as he put his free arm around Belle's shoulder. "It's been fun following you three around, but Belle and I have a wedding to attend to. So if you'll excuse us now, we'd best be on our way." With that, he grabbed Belle and tossed her on to André. However, he had miscalculated the amount of room on the horse's back. There was not enough room for three riders, and LeFou ended up falling from the saddle just as Gaston steered his stallion in the opposite direction.

"Gaston, wait for me!" Lefou shouted as he got to his feet and waddled after him.

Maurice looked on in despair as they all disappeared into the darkness. "Now what are we going to do?" he asked Adam frantically. Of all the things his daughter had to encounter alone in the woods, it had to be the one person they were trying to avoid – Gaston!

For a moment, the prince was too angry to reply. He knew what he _wanted_ to do, of course: he wanted to be the Beast, so he could rescue Belle, haul that hunter off his horse and teach him a lesson he would never forget. But those days were over now. And as tempting as it was to lose his temper right now, he knew it would get them nowhere at this point. They just had to make do with what they had. And looking around, the prince noticed one important item Gaston had forgotten to take with him: Belle's horse.

"Take Philippe and follow me," he told Maurice.

"What?"

"Just do it!"

The old man hesitated, then, seeming to think that half a plan from Adam was better than no plan at all, dismounted Magnifique and made his way over to Philippe. The prince nodded at him and then with a loud 'giddy up' sent his horse riding after Gaston.

As Gaston rode through the dark forest, he couldn't get over how easy it had been to get Belle back from that hooded man. He hadn't actually meant to _shoot_ anyone of course, but if he got too close, he'd have no choice. It wouldn't be a hard story to explain to the men back at the tavern. He'd simply tell them that he was saving his wife like the good, brave, noble husband he was, and no one would question him. Well, Belle might have a few things to say about it, but he had ways of making her come around. Soon, very soon, he'd show her _the right way _of looking at things.

Suddenly, Gaston heard the sound of fast trotting behind him. He turned around, shocked to see that it was him – that ruffian fool! He just didn't give up, did he?

"Faster, André, faster!" he urged his horse. But the stallion was disobeying him, jerking his head up as he tried to pull at his reins. What the heck was going on?

Whatever the reason, it gave the prince more than enough time to catch up to him. As soon as they were close enough to Gaston, he leapt on to André and grabbed on to his back. The extra weight set the hunter off balance and sent both of them tumbling from the saddle. Belle felt herself fall free from the horse and roll unceremoniously on to the wet dirt as Gaston released her.

On the ground, the prince quickly forced himself off a dazed Gaston and crawled over to where Belle had fallen. "Are you alright?" he asked as he helped her sit up.

"Yes," Belle replied. "But you..." she continued as she pointed to his mouth, "You're bleeding!"

The prince curiously touched his lip, surprised to find that there was blood on his fingers. He must have cut it when he fell. He tried to smack his lips to wipe it clean, but a metallic taste still lingered. "It's just a scratch," he said, trying to reassure her.

Before they could speak further, Maurice arrived on the path with Philippe. Remembering that they had to get Belle away from Gaston, the prince pointed to him urgently. "Take Philippe and get out of the woods."

"But what about you?" Belle replied. "You're not staying here are - ?" Suddenly she screamed as Gaston jumped up from behind and grabbed Adam in a chokehold. Adam grunted for a moment and then shifted his weight behind Gaston's leg and elbowed him in the abdomen, sending him falling on his back.

"Just go!" Adam ordered as he tried to pin Gaston down.

Belle was devastated, but knew she had no other choice. As she took her father's hand and climbed on the saddle, she was seized by a terrible feeling of guilt. How could she be so foolish, so selfish? Now Gaston and Adam were at each other's throats, and it was all her fault. She had led them out here all because of a dream, a stupid, meaningless dream!

They had just enough time to ride away before Gaston broke free of the prince's hold, butting him in the head and lifting his hips high enough to throw him off his chest.

"It's over," he heard him growl as he got to his feet. "Belle is mine!"

"Belle doesn't belong to anyone," the prince corrected as he drew himself to full height. "Not me and not you."

Slowly, they began to circle each other around the clearing like two hungry wolves fighting over a meal. The prince mentally tried to count down in his head how long he would need to distract Gaston so Belle and her father could make a clean escape. He just _hoped _he could hold him off long enough...

But then the first fist went flying and he didn't have time to think about that anymore.

* * *

><p>"Whoa, Philippe, steady!" Belle shouted. They were in a part of the woods she had never seen before, and had no idea how close they were to finding a village, or how far they had travelled for that matter. And now that Philippe was frightened, that could only mean that trouble wasn't too far away.<p>

The next moment Belle lost control of the reins as Philippe threw her and her father violently from the saddle. She winced from the soreness of falling from a horse for a second time, and then looked up to see something that made her skin crawl. On the other side of the clearing stood six wolves, smacking their lips hungrily as they slowly advanced towards her and her father.

"Papa?"

From behind her, Maurice turned around and gasped. "RUN, Belle!"

With Philippe already long gone, they had no other choice.

* * *

><p>The prince was glad he still had the Beast's old reflexes in him, because he was quite sure he wouldn't be able to dodge all of Gaston's punches in time if he didn't. His moves had become a lot more brutish since their fight back at the tavern, and despite his best efforts to avoid him, it wasn't long before Gaston backed him right into a tree. "End of the line," Gaston laughed as the prince tried to catch his breath.<p>

Frantically, he tried to look for an escape. _The trees? _ As a Beast he could have easily bounded to the nearest one, but as a man it was too far away; Gaston would tackle him before he got halfway there. _The branches? _He looked up at the tree he was standing under and saw, to his relief, that there were two branches just low enough for him to reach. Seeing that Gaston was already running at him, he jumped up and grabbed both of them, kicking Gaston in the chin and sending him stumbling backwards.

Moments later, Gaston sat up, wiping fresh blood from his mouth as he scowled in rage. How dare that hooded man outsmart him - again! He looked back at the tree his opponent had been leaning against and saw that the man had already vanished. "Come on out and fight!" he yelled.

He moved slowly across the clearing, and had just reached over his back and pulled his bow from its strap when he sensed movement behind him. He spun around just in time to see the hooded man jump down from the tree above him. Gaston didn't even have time to reach for an arrow before the man kicked him in the stomach and sent him lying flat on his back, the bow flying out of his hands. The man got a few hard punches in before Gaston rolled to the side, kneed him in the abdomen and flipped him on the ground with his legs.

Now Adam was the one on his back. Gaston reached for his gun and tried to pound his face in with it, but the prince rolled out of the way just in time, his chest landing conveniently on top of the only thing he could possibly defend himself with: Gaston's bow.

* * *

><p>The whole time they were running through the forest, all Belle could think about was how fortunate she had been when the Beast had saved her from the wolves all those months ago. She had almost forgotten the terror of hearing their hungry cries, how close they were to snapping at her heels, but now it was coming back to her like a horrid nightmare from which there was no escape. She knew it wouldn't be long before the wolves caught up to them, and then what?<p>

"Belle, the tree!" her father exclaimed suddenly as he pointed to a tall oak tree some twenty feet in front of them.

Belle realized it was their only hope. In what precious time they had, they both ran towards it, Belle giving her father a leg-up to the closest branch. For a man soon approaching his sixties, Maurice was a lot nimbler than he looked, and soon had climbed a good several branches before extending his hand down to help his daughter. "Come on!" he shouted.

Belle took one good look at the wolves running towards her with their teeth bared and then began to climb after him. She was only one branch away when she heard a cracking noise beneath her - the branch she was standing on was about to break! She desperately tried to jump to the next one as it gave way beneath her, but her grip wasn't strong enough and she began to slip.

"Take my hand, hurry!" her father shouted. She frantically tried to reach for him, but gravity claimed her first, and she screamed as she fell through the air. The next thing she heard was her left foot making a loud 'pop' noise as she made contact with the ground followed by excruciating pain. Turning her head around she could see that the wolves were already closing in on her.

"No, BELLE!" her father cried distantly.

Belle was unable to stand on her injured foot, so instead she crawled backwards with her hands until she felt her back hit against the tree. One of the wolves was already advancing on her. She kicked it in the nose with her good leg, hearing it whimper upon contact, but only for a moment before it retaliated and lunged right at her face. With no Beast to save her, she helplessly lifted her arm as its razor sharp teeth dug into her flesh, and screamed.

* * *

><p>"Belle?"<p>

The prince lowered Gaston's bow at the sound of her cries. Seeing his distraction, the hunter seized his chance and swung at the prince wildly with his gun. Although the prince saw him and managed to block his attack with the bow, he was a split-second too late. The bow broke in two, and then Gaston swung his blunderbuss underneath him and chucked the offending weapon out of Adam's hands. Now he was unarmed. Gaston launched a few well-timed swings at the prince before shoving him and sending him rolling across the ground.

The next thing the prince heard was a ripping noise as something snagged at his cloak. Having stopped spinning, he propped himself up on his right side to see that the bottom of his cape had been caught in a thorn bush. He tried desperately to get up, but it was useless. The thorns held on to his garment like a vise, and when he tried to crawl forwards they pulled him back until he felt like he was choking.

To his left, he could hear Gaston laugh as he watched him struggle. "Adam, is it?" he said as he stepped closer, knowing his opponent wouldn't be out of there in a hurry. "You know, I'm starting to think that there was another reason why you helped Belle out of the village, wasn't there? You weren't..._in love with her_, were you?" When Adam answered by trying to break free again, Gaston smiled. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but Belle was meant to be mine from the moment I laid eyes on her. I may have given you a fair warning, taken it easy on you the first or the second time, but now... now I'm calling the shots."

And that was when the prince heard the unmistakable clicking sound of Gaston loading his gun. He was going to shoot him! _I can't die, not now!_ he thought. He needed to stay alive, to protect Belle and her father!

Again, he struggled to break free from his entrapments, but the thorns held his cape firmly in place. He would just have to leave it behind. In one quick gesture, he rolled to his left and unclasped his cloak fastener. He crawled out of his cape and scrambled to his feet just as Gaston finished putting the ramrod back in the barrel of his blunderbuss.

Now face to face, Gaston glared at his attacker and ran at him, intending to knock him off his feet. But the prince grabbed the barrel of the gun and pushed it back at Gaston until his arms started to burn. Despite his best efforts, Gaston was stronger and shoved the prince down on his back. Adam gritted his teeth as he pressed his hands against the gun barrel, trying to prevent Gaston from pounding him straight into the ground.

Now that the man wasn't wearing his cloak, Gaston could see that his attacker was in fact a young man, maybe not much older than himself. He may have even been quite handsome, though not as handsome as _Gaston, _of course! And those eyes. Where had he seen those eyes before?

"You..." he said.

And then the prince kicked him squarely in the stomach. Gaston went falling backwards, retching in pain. Enraged that he had let his guard down, he got up and ran blindly at Adam, forgetting who was carrying the blunderbuss now. The prince swung the rifle. The last thing Gaston knew was the hard and painful sensation of metal slamming into the side of his head, followed by several bursts of light.

Then the prince jumped over Gaston's body and ran through the woods with the urgency of a soldier answering his call to arms.

* * *

><p>In what Belle was sure were her last moments on earth, she tried to think reassuring thoughts, thoughts of her mother and the Beast, and how she would see them again soon.<p>

Between the black dots clouding her vision, she could just see the alpha wolf staring at her hungrily with its red eyes, its breath both hot and rancid on her face. Whatever it planned to do to her, she hoped that it would be quick and painless. And she hoped that once she crossed over, God in heaven would forgive her for what she had done to the Beast.

* * *

><p>It was only through skills he'd acquired from ten years of hunting down wolves in the forest that the prince was able to track down Belle and Maurice as quickly as he did. He skid to a halt at the edge of a clearing in time to see a pack of at least half a dozen wolves advancing towards something blue propped against a tree – Belle! A horrible chill ran down his spine. Was she –? No, she was still alive, but her face was deathly pale, and the right sleeve of her dress was staining a deep crimson. Above her, in the tree, he could just see Maurice making some strange noises and gestures with his arms, trying to stop the wolves from coming any closer. Whether he thought his methods were working or not escaped the prince; the alpha was already ready to pounce. <em>If only I were still a Beast!<em> he thought in anguish. If he were, he knew he could tear the wolf apart in moments.

But while he no longer had sharp teeth or claws, the prince realized that he did have a weapon: Gaston's blunderbuss was still in his hands.

His hands shook violently as he prepared the gun to fire. He knew how to use a firearm, of course. He'd taken some hunting lessons with Lumiere before the curse. But he'd used a different type of rifle then, not a blunderbuss. Opening the pan, he could see that Gaston had already filled it with black powder and that the cock had a piece of flint lodged in it. No question about it, he'd loaded it and intended to use it.

Looking back at the clearing, he could see Maurice chucking his shoes at the advancing wolves, desperate to get their attention. He knew he didn't have much time. He raised the blunderbuss, then hesitated. He knew this gun was shorter than a standard hunting rifle, and would be harder to aim far distance. What if he hit Belle instead of the wolf? What if he missed entirely? He had nothing to reload with, and he hadn't even thought of searching Gaston to see if he had any extra ammunition before he ran off.

_Just focus, _he told himself firmly. _You can't afford to be worrying about that right now. _He breathed in deeply through his nose, took a few steps forward and pulled the hammer back to full cock. He centred the blunderbuss as best he could, imagining the alpha wolf baring its ugly yellow teeth at Belle before it pounced. Then, he fired.

A low rumble of thunder roused Belle from her semi-conscious state. She heard a 'thud' noise as a line of grey and white fur appeared, just a few inches away from her knees. There was a pattering of footsteps and alarmed whimpers, but who...? What...?

Belle struggled to keep her eyes open as she watched a tall figure running out of the thicket towards her. She tried to make out its face, but it was like looking through a fogged up window. She tried to move but the combined pain in her leg and arm made her sick to her stomach. All she could see clearly as the figure stopped in front of her was its eyes. Deep blue eyes.

"Beast?"

There was a sweet smell of damp earth in the air. Then nothing.


	17. Part III: Essence

**Part III**

"Belle? No, BELLE!"

The prince's voice shook with panic and alarm as he approached her limp form. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slack, and both her palms lay open at her sides. A fresh stream of blood trickled from her forearm on to the dirt beneath her. He quickly kicked the wolf's body aside and fell to his knees, desperate to shake her back into consciousness, but it was no use - her head simply lolled lifelessly from side to side as though she were a rag doll. He was too late, too late to bring her back.

"No!" he cried again in anguish.

Trembling, he threw down Gaston's blunderbuss in order to take a closer look at the dark blood on her sleeve. He carefully rolled up the torn fabric and winced at what he found underneath: a bite mark, at least four holes punctured deep into her forearm. He'd inflicted worse wounds on wolves as a Beast before, and there was no bone showing as far as he could see, but just realizing that_ she _had been attacked caused his stomach to lurch sickeningly. He had to take a few deep breaths and look away from her in order to tear a strip off his shirt and wrap it over the wound. Even then, the blood was still coming through the black fabric - there was too much blood, far too much for her to be losing all at once.

"We have to get her out of here before the wolves come back," he heard Maurice say distantly. "Get her to a village, a doctor - something."

Tearing his attention away from Belle, the prince watched as the old man leaped down from the tree to join him on the ground. "What happened?" he asked him.

"Philippe got spooked when we were riding through the woods," Maurice replied. "He threw us off, and then those wolves started chasing us. We tried to climb the tree, but one of the branches broke, and Belle fell. If she hadn't kicked that wolf back in time, and if you hadn't come..." His voice quickly trailed off, as if he didn't really want to think about what would have happened if Adam hadn't shot that wolf when he did.

Hearing the whole story the prince slammed his fists into the tree trunk above Belle's shoulders, gritting his teeth in anguish. How could he have been so _stupid _to let them ride off into the woods without considering the dangers first? Because of him, Belle had had to fend off a whole pack of wolves by herself! He should have been there for her. _Why hadn't he been there?_

He knew the old man was right, of course. They couldn't stay in the forest. It was too dangerous. But where_ could_ they go? They were miles away from Bridoré by now. The prince didn't even know where the closest village was from here, though this place _did _seem familiar to him. He took a moment to study the clearing and realized why - he'd been in this part of the woods before, as a Beast.

Adam knew that the three of them hadn't exactly been taking the most direct route to Saint-Jean-le-Blanc. Since their stay at Aristide's, they'd been zigzagging off the main path, trying to throw Gaston off their trail. Perhaps in their efforts to avoid him, they hadn't really travelled that far from the castle after all. He bit his lip anxiously as he considered their options. Did he dare risk exposing himself to Belle and her father by taking them back to his old home? He looked at Maurice and then at Belle, lying pale and wounded against the tree, and immediately knew the answer: yes. He couldn't afford to be making any selfish decisions, not when her life was at risk. If Belle was to recuperate somewhere, it should be somewhere familiar and comfortable to her; with people he knew and trusted.

He quickly turned his head towards the thicket and whistled for his horse. Moments later Magnifique burst into the clearing.

"Take Magnifique and Belle to my castle," he said to Maurice, pointing at him. "He'll know the way."

"But what about you?" Maurice said, confused.

"I'll catch up." He would have preferred to come with them, but realistically there wasn't enough room on Magnifique for three people. Besides, he was sure his servants would receive them perfectly well without his help. If he stumbled upon a village and was able to procure a horse, he could even meet up with them within the day...that was, _if_ he could get out of this forest on his own first.

Suddenly, the prince was startled from his thoughts as another horse emerged from the thicket: a black stallion - but without a rider.

"That's Gaston's horse!" Maurice said in surprise as the stallion stopped next to Magnifique. "What was his name again? Antoine? No, André."

Curiously, the prince got to his feet to examine the horse. He was well-built stallion with a black body, grey mane and red eyes. His demeanour seemed quite gentle, and he didn't flinch when the prince stroked the side of his nose. It seemed that he'd seen enough abuse from his old master in the past few days to know where his loyalties should lie - and now he was more than willing to lend his services to Belle and her father. With André's help, they could all be at the castle before daybreak, the prince realized.

"Very well," he said to Maurice. "I'll ride on him, and you take Magnifique. He's familiar with you at least, so he shouldn't give you many problems."

Maurice nodded. "What happened to Gaston by the way?" he asked.

At that, the prince froze, remembering how he had clubbed Gaston in head with his blunderbuss before running off to find Belle. He had been so determined to get to her, he hadn't even stopped to check if he was still alive. He shuddered nervously. "He's indisposed...for now."

They spent the next ten minutes preparing Belle for the journey back to the castle. After going through his saddlebags, Adam found a long strip of linen they could use to bandage her arm. The sight of her blood still made him squeamish, so he ended up handing the job over to Maurice while he pushed stray hairs of her out her face, telling her how brave she was, though it was unlikely she could hear him. After he'd finished with the bandaging, Maurice gently touched Adam's hand.

"She should ride with you," he said.

The prince knew he was right. He was taller than Maurice was, and Belle was less likely to fall off the horse if he carried her on his saddle. Still, he felt a bit nervous to be carrying her in his human form. His hands weren't as large as they used to be, and he had to take a moment to negotiate the best way to lift her; carefully swinging her uninjured arm over his neck while sliding his right arm under her knees so he could hoist her up from the ground. For a moment he wondered if the change in position would cause her to respond to him in some way, but she remained quiescent. He couldn't get over how small she looked against his chest. He had never known that the girl who carried his entire world could feel so light and fragile in his arms.

* * *

><p>It felt like ages to the prince before they reached the castle, even though both horses were moving as fast as they possibly could. Belle lay face down across the saddle while the prince sat behind her, one hand on the reins, one on her back so she wouldn't slip off. A cold wind blew across his hoodless face as the sky grew brighter with the approaching sun.<p>

_If only I'd seen the signs, _he thought guiltily. _If I'd only I'd paid closer attention to her dreams, maybe I could have stopped her from leaving. _He knew that Belle could be too inquisitive for her own good at times, but he had never imagined she would go so far as to take Philippe out _alone _in the middle of the night without telling anyone. He could only hope that they got to the castle before it was too late. He knew that if Belle succumbed to her injuries because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Meanwhile, as Maurice rode on Adam's horse he was busy trying to wrap his head around a slightly different predicament. On one hand, he was concerned for his daughter. He wanted to get her to safety as much as Adam did, if not even more. At the same time, he was also curious about the young man riding alongside him. Maurice had had a suspicion that there was something more to Adam since he'd shown him the mirror back at the tavern. Now this suspicion was steadily growing as they made their way to what Adam had clearly called _his _castle. _Can it be that he's known about the Beast this entire time? _Maurice wondered. If so, why hadn't he said anything about him before?

By the time the three of them arrived at the front gates, dawn was already approaching. Adam was so concerned for Belle's well-being that he didn't even speak to Maurice as he stopped André on the viaduct, lifted Belle off the saddle, and carried her through the front door. Maurice dismounted Magnifique on his own before following Adam into the atrium. He watched, both confused and fascinated, as Adam shouted the names of servants who immediately answered him, overjoyed to see their master had returned, but then shocked when they saw him caked in dirt and blood with an unconscious Belle in his arms.

"Master," Cogsworth was the first to say. "What...happened?"

"Wolves," the prince replied breathlessly. "There were wolves in the forest. Belle was attacked." As he spoke, his legs began to shake unsteadily as though turned to jelly. Seeing his distress, Mrs. Potts called Emile - an enchanted sofa - over to help him.

"Just lay her down here, master," she told him. "We'll take care of her from here."

The prince obediently put Belle down on the couch, unable to get over exactly how much paler she looked since he'd found her in the forest. As soon as he'd positioned her comfortably enough, Mrs. Potts turned her attention to Maurice. "Come along with us, sir. We'll help you get settled in."

Maurice complied, recognizing Mrs. Potts as the same teapot that had served him during his first night at the castle. He followed her upstairs to take Belle to her room. The prince felt as though some vital part of himself had suddenly been ripped away as the sofa carried Belle further and further away from him. He was only brought back to his senses by Lumiere and Cogsworth as they guided him to the parlour off the entrance hall so they could properly discuss what had happened.

"What happened, master?" Lumiere said as he gestured for Adam to sit down. "You were gone for quite some time."

Trying to take his mind off Belle for a moment, the prince sank into his old armchair and told them everything that had happened in the past four days: how he'd rescued Belle and her father from their village with the intent of bringing them to Saint-Jean-le-Blanc, how Belle had unexpectedly fled the tavern that night to try to find the castle, and how an unfortunate run-in with Gaston had caused them to get separated, with Belle and her father left to face a pack of wolves all by themselves. By the time the prince was finished, he was positively breathless, and the enchanted washcloths that had come into the room with him had floated away, having finished tending to the various minor cuts and bruises on his body.

"You did everything you could for her, master," Cogsworth said supportively. "None of this is your fault. You're all safe now and that's the important thing."

The prince shook his head. "The hunter. Back in the woods, I hit him in the head with his blunderbuss. I don't know if he might still be out there."

"Not to worry, master," Lumiere assured him. "We shall send whatever able-bodied staff we have to patrol the grounds. No man will pass through our gates if we have anything to say about it!"

"Belle's father," the prince added suddenly. "Make sure to prepare a room for him."

"Certainly, master. Right away!"

Suddenly an enchanted medicine vial hopped into the room: It was Monsieur Pomme, the castle physician.

"Good morning, master," he said to the prince, rolling forward slightly as though in a bow.

"How is Belle?" the prince replied anxiously. "Is she all right?"

"It's difficult to say right now," the physician confessed. "There's some considerable swelling on her left foot - we think she sprained it when she fell from the tree. We've propped her up on pillows and have sent some servants down to the pantries to see whether we can find anything to ice it. As for the bite wound, we've cleaned and bandaged it best we can, but there's a good chance that there's already an infection. She's running a high fever right now."

_A fever. _The prince exhaled heavily as he leaned back in her chair. He had given her a fever. "Can I see her?"

"Certainly, master. But please, try not to raise your voice around her. She's not exactly herself right now."

Biting his lip nervously, the prince got up from the armchair and followed M. Pomme upstairs.

* * *

><p><em>She looks so weak, <em>the prince thought with a sinking heart minutes later as he stopped at the threshold to Belle's room.

This was not his Belle, who held herself high in her convictions, who never backed down from a fight. This was not even the Belle he'd find sleeping peacefully in the library some nights over a good book, or the Belle he'd seen lovingly tending to her father for the past four days. No, this Belle was only a shell of the woman he knew and loved. Everything about her looked wrong, from her ashen skin to the matted hair around her shoulders. Even the nightgown they had chosen for her - a white buttoned gown with a high collar - looked wrong for her.

He quietly made his way around the bed, past Mrs. Potts, Madame de la Grande Bouche, and Babette, to where Maurice was sitting. As soon as he sat down next to him, it was as though a snare trap had just been set off.

"Beast!" Belle exclaimed as she grabbed the front of his shirt, her eyes snapping open. "Can you...forgive me?"

Her eyes were delirious from the fever. Without their usual light, the prince shivered, feeling as though he were looking into a pair of dark, empty tunnels. He shot a nervous look at Maurice before he turned back to her and answered, "Yes. Yes I forgive you."

Belle nodded in relief and then slid back into unconsciousness. Unsure of what else to do, Adam pulled her blankets back over her, feeling Maurice's eyes on him as he did. He knew what the old man was going to say to him before he'd even said it.

"You're _him_, aren't you?"

Adam bowed his head in shame. "Yes."

The door opened again and Lumiere and Cogsworth entered the room.

"Monsieur," Lumiere said, addressing Belle's father. "We have prepared a room for you down the hall if you would like to come with us for just a moment. And master, we have drawn a bath up for you if you'd like to...Master?" He looked at the prince in perplexity as he got up from his chair and made his way towards the door. "Where are you going, master?"

"I need some air," the prince replied. But this was only half the truth. Already he was thinking about riding back into the woods, finding Aristide, stopping Gaston. He didn't really care where he went; he just knew that he couldn't stay here another minute.

"Oh, please don't go out there, master," Cogsworth said worriedly.

The prince glared at him. "And why not?"

"Trying to avenge Belle won't do anything for her now, master," Mrs. Potts said, agreeing with Cogsworth. "What you really need right now is some rest."

"Yes, master, please, make use of the water while it is still warm," Lumiere pleaded. "We'll inform you if there's any change, whether it be inside or outside the castle."

The prince stared at his three servants for a moment and realized exactly how desolate he must look to them, a man thrown into unprecedented circumstances with no idea of what he was supposed to do with himself. He sighed heavily, realizing they were right.

"Very well. But if _anything _happens, you must let me know straight away."

* * *

><p>Down the hallway, just a few doors away from Belle's room, Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth showed Belle's father into the bedchamber he would be staying in for the night. It was a magnificent room filled with handsomely carved furniture and a canopy bed with silk emerald bed sheets fit for an emperor, but Maurice was so engrossed in his own thoughts that they could have shoved him back into the tower and he wouldn't have known the difference.<p>

"And if you should ever want something to eat or drink, you will find the kitchens down the hall behind the main staircase," Cogsworth was saying. "Call for us at any time."

"What happened to him?" Maurice replied inattentively. "Your master. I mean, he used to be _enormous!"_

Mrs. Potts looked at Belle's father in surprise. "He didn't...tell you?"

The old man shook his head. "As far as we knew he was just a young traveller who wanted to help us get out of the village. I never even saw his face until now."

"I'm afraid it's true," said Cogsworth. "From what the master told Lumiere and me, he disguised himself as an escort and tried to bring the two of them to their relative's home. He didn't tell them anything about himself other than that he wanted to assist them."

"Heavens!" Mrs. Potts exclaimed. "It's no wonder they're both confused. Well, enough of that now, we'll just have to tell him the truth."

"No!" Cogsworth retorted. "We can't go against the master's word. We've been sworn to _absolute secrecy, _remember?"

"Pishposh. If the master keeps covering up his past like this, he won't have any hope for the future," Mrs. Potts said dismissively. "If only one of us had gone with him like you said, we could have stopped all this nonsense before it even started. Well, no matter." She nodded at Maurice. "Have a seat, monsieur; this is a long story."

* * *

><p>In the privacy of the bathroom, the prince stripped himself of his shirt, boots and breeches while desperately trying to banish the image of Belle feverish and empty-eyed from his mind. His garments were torn and soiled from his fight with Gaston, and he knew that the servants would likely have to discard them - he couldn't wear them anymore.<p>

_Not that they really belonged to you anyway,_ he thought. The clothes he'd been wearing for the past week had merely been a facade, a disguise to hide himself not only from Belle, but also from the world – the world he hadn't been ready to re-enter since the enchantress had brought him back against his will.

Looking at himself in the mirror now, the prince again felt that odd, disillusioning sensation he'd experienced when he'd first tried on that blue dinner jacket just a week ago. Try as he might, he couldn't find anything remarkable about the man in the reflection. It was just a body. It had nothing to do with the intricate network of emotions and thoughts – both good and evil – that plagued his person from day to day. Still, he knew that this body was connected to him in a way. After all, did people not identify each other by their outward appearances every day? When a person passed away, did their loved ones not put up portraits and statues in memory of them? As a Beast, did he not once believe that freedom for him could only be possible once he became a man again?

Whether the prince liked it or not, this body - _his_ body - was a part of him. He scratched his nose, and the man in the mirror did the same. He turned his head to the side, and so did the man. It was an inescapable connection, imminent since the day of his conception, but even now, he still forgot that it only made up _half_ of who he really was.

Stepping into the warm bathtub, the prince began to feel the hours of missing sleep creeping up on him, combined with the fatigue of running around the forest fighting Gaston. Even though he wanted to stay awake for Belle, he knew Mrs. Potts was right; he would likely be going straight to bed after this.

_Belle._ Thinking about her now caused him to run a soapy hand through his hair in unease. All he wanted was to give her the life she deserved, a life where she would be free to make her own choices. But he'd even failed to give her that. For all his efforts, they were both exactly back where they had started. He didn't even know how to tell Maurice exactly how sorry he was.

He leaned back against the side of the bathtub, and didn't come out for a very long time.

* * *

><p>Gaston couldn't remember the last time he had had a headache this massive. He opened his eyes to see a light so agonizingly bright that he immediately had to shut them again, groaning from the pain building up inside his temples.<p>

_What the hell? _he thought to himself. Was he drunk? Hung over? He quickly dismissed the thought. Gaston _never got hung over!_

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes again, and thankfully, this time the light was considerably dimmer than the first time. He could see that he was lying on his back looking up at a circle of trees somewhere in the woods. Judging from the height of the sun in the sky, he guessed that it was midday.

_But what am I doing here? _he wondered. For a moment, he was unable to remember a thing. But then it all came flooding back to him: finding Belle in the forest, taking her back to Molyneaux, getting intercepted by that hooded man, fighting with him, seeing his eyes, being hit in the head with his blunderbuss...

Being hit in the head with his blunderbuss...

He gritted his teeth in rage.

"LEFOU!"

"Aww, nuts!" a voice cursed from behind a nearby tree. "Coming!"

The next minute LeFou hastily pulled up his pants as he stumbled into the clearing. "Hey, Gaston!" he said as soon as he saw the hunter. "You're awake!"

"_Of course_ I'm awake, LeFou," Gaston replied nonchalantly. "No one finishes Gaston that easily!" He sat up from the blankets, and immediately felt his head throb in protest and a wave of dizziness overtake him. But he ignored it. He wasn't going to lie down again, not for anything. "What happened?"

"Well, I found you lying unconscious over in the thicket," LeFou explained. "I managed to patch you up alright, but you were banged up pretty badly, especially your head." He pointed at the bandage he'd wrapped around his cranium.

"Did you stop him?"

LeFou stared at Gaston in surprise. "Who?"

"That hooded man, the _Beast!_"

LeFou blinked once, looking as though Gaston had just spoken to him in a different language entirely. "That hooded guy we've been after is the Beast?" he repeated in disbelief.

"Of course!" Gaston snapped back. "I saw his eyes back there in the forest. They're the exact same shade as blue as the monster I killed last week!" He clenched his fists in rage at the memory. It was so damn obvious now; why couldn't he have seen it before? "We've been duped all along, LeFou," he continued. "That man wasn't trying to take the Beast's body for himself - he _is _the Beast! And I'll bet all my trophies that he's taking Belle back to the castle now so he can have her for himself, the scoundrel! Well, he'll be in for the surprise of his life when we crash his little soirée, won't he, LeFou?" He turned his head to look at his lackey. "LeFou?"

LeFou returned Gaston's gaze hesitantly. "Gaston...I don't think we should go back to the castle."

For a moment Gaston looked as though he'd just been hit in the head with another blunderbuss, he was so shocked. "What did you say?" he growled as he grabbed LeFou by his collar and held him up so they were face to face. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Oh no, _of course _I believe you, Gaston!" LeFou stammered nervously. "It's just...well...you were unconscious for a long time. I was scared you weren't going to come around. What if you get hurt again, and this time you don't wake up?"

If LeFou had asked Gaston this question a week ago, he would have likely laughed him off and assured him that he would be fine and that no man stood a chance against him. But as it was now, Gaston had a head injury and massive headache, he'd spent almost a whole week wandering the woods looking for his wife, Adam had outsmarted him more than three times now, and his patience was slowly reaching its limit. Did nobody understand? He _had _to marry Belle to prove to the village that he was the best! And if LeFou wasn't with him...

He threw LeFou back on the ground and got to his feet.

"Maybe you're no different from the other boys back home," he said in disgust. "They gave up on me too."

"No, Gaston!" LeFou protested. "I didn't mean –"

"You've been nothing but a thorn on my side!" Gaston shot back. "You've been slowing me down, taking forever to answer me when I call you! Belle would be mine already if not for you. Well I don't care anymore. I'll find the castle on my own; I don't need your help. And when I do..." he smiled, "I'm going to make sure that our little Beast-man _stays_ dead, for good."

"No, wait! Gaston!"

But it was too late. Gaston's mind was already made up. "Goodbye, LeFou," he said. He stormed through the foliage, leaving his lackey alone in the clearing.

* * *

><p><em>Don't feel so bad, LeFou,<em> LeFou thought to himself as he tried to find the road that would take him back to Molyneaux. It wasn't a big deal that Gaston had ditched him. In some ways, he had known this was coming. He had been a pretty bad nuisance to Gaston in the past couple of days, after all. And on the bright side, this meant that there'd be no more holding Gaston's stuff for him, or running in circles around the forest, or falling asleep for what only felt like five minutes before Gaston woke him up again, telling him that they had to keep moving.

Still, a part of him was worried, and he wasn't exactly sure why. Certainly not for Gaston. Even with his head injury, he was no stranger to the forest. Heck, he could take on a bear with his hands tied behind his back. Of course he had nothing to worry about! And once he got to that castle he was sure they'd work something out. Even though he was angry, Gaston would never kill anyone...right?

The fact that he couldn't say 'yes' to his own question made LeFou feel even more uneasy than before. He told himself that of course, Gaston wouldn't actually _kill_ anyone. Blackmail yes, beat up yes, but never kill. But then again...hadn't he seen Gaston point his gun at Maurice and the hooded man back in the thicket? He knew Gaston had been getting a lot angrier these past few days, but LeFou had never expected him to pull a threat _that _extreme –

The sound of a horse whinnying interrupted LeFou's thoughts. He froze, wondering if it was the hooded man coming back for vengeance.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it!" he shouted as he threw himself on the ground. But nothing happened.

_That's funny, _he thought as he got to his feet. The horse continued to whinny, but for whatever reason it didn't seem to be coming any closer to him. He cautiously walked through the trees and realized why. There, with his reins caught in a branch from a nearby tree, was Belle's horse – Philippe. _But what's he doing here? _LeFou wondered incredulously. Had Maurice and Belle lost him? But how? Why?

LeFou didn't know the answer, but looking at the horse now, he suddenly had an idea, a _crazy_ idea. _What if I took Philippe to the castle? He has to know the way. I could get there before Gaston and warn them..._

_Warn them about what? _another voice in his head seemed to challenge._ You barely even know the guy! Why do you care what happens to him?_

LeFou wasn't sure he had an answer to that either. All he knew was that killing a human, _any_ human, was bad. And yet Gaston was doing exactly that – he was going to kill a man in order to get his wife back_**.**_ And that wasn't right – was it?

Still feeling unsure of himself, LeFou cautiously climbed up Philippe's saddle and untangled his reins from the branches. The result was instantaneous. Philippe ran into a full gallop through the trees, sending LeFou flying off his back and catching his right foot in the stirrup. With no way of getting the horse to stop, he was left to swing upside-down like a sleeping bat caught in a breeze.

"Aww, nuts," he grumbled as his head hit the side of a large mushroom. His last thought before they rounded the corner was what a strange adventure this was turning out to be for him, and how mad Gaston would be if he saw him right now.


	18. Pieces

_He was flying above the waves of the ocean, the cool breeze of the salt water spitting against his bare skin. Near the coast of a nearby kingdom, he could see a large rock formation sticking out the water. He flew towards it, shocked to see a young maiden chained to the rock face. She was completely naked, the sensitive parts of her body only covered only by the long length of brown hair that twisted down to her feet. Realizing that she'd been placed there as a sacrifice, he landed on the rocks and ran towards her. _

_"Belle?" he called._

_The young woman looked up at him in surprise. "Who are you?" _

Who am I?_ For some reason he couldn't remember. The only thing that came to mind was a distant memory of a legend an old man had told him, but the names and exact details escaped him. The longer he thought on it, the less it seemed to matter. _

_"I'm here to save you," he replied. Then he raised his sword and cut through her chains as though they were little more than scraps of paper. Belle stumbled away from the rock, but before she could thank the young man for saving her, a huge splash erupted from the water. The prince turned back around to see Gaston step on to the island._

_"How dare you," the hunter said, eyes blazing with jealousy. "The girl belongs to me!"_

"_You would have preferred to let her die here than rescue her yourself!" the prince snapped back at him. "You don't deserve her." _

_Gaston scowled. "We'll see about that."_

_He drew his sword out from his sheath and swung it at the prince. Metal clanged against metal. Gaston was a strong fighter but Adam was quicker. As Gaston attempted to swing another unsuccessful blow at him, the prince sidestepped behind Gaston and struck his sword at the back of his legs, sending him flat on his back. He stepped beside him and then plunged his blade into his chest. _

"_You're finished," he said to him against the sound of the crashing waves. _"_Now you will never hurt her again." _

_Gaston laughed as the rocks slowly turned red with his blood. "Do you really think you can destroy me that easily, Perseus?" he said. "We're the same, you and I." _

"_Perseus?" the prince replied. Suddenly he fell backwards as a terrible, burning sensation pierced his chest. He clutched at his right rib, shocked to find a deep gash there, a mirror wound to the one he had just inflicted on Gaston. _

_From somewhere behind him he could hear Belle screaming. He looked back to where he had stabbed Gaston, only to see that in his place was a monster with white eyes and fangs as large as elephant tusks. Terrified, he started to crawl backwards, but the Beast was already upon him. It let out a horrible roar, and then..._

"Master?"

The prince opened his eyes with a start. He was lying in the bed of the spare room in the North Wing, his hand clutching at his invisible wound. It was just a dream, another one. Feeling both ashamed and embarrassed with himself, he rolled over to the left side of the bed to see Lumiere and Cogsworth looking up at him.

"What is it?" he said to them.

"We're very sorry to disturb you, master," said Cogsworth, "But someone has come to the castle."

At that, the prince sat up in shock. "What?!"

"It's not the hunter," Lumiere added. "He's a portly gentleman with dark hair."

"The one I struck in the - well never mind."

Adam frowned as he absorbed this information. He didn't know of anyone who was portly and dark-haired. Then he remembered the man who had come with Gaston to the tavern in Bridoré, and the one who had been riding on Gaston's horse in the woods and it dawned on him - Gaston's henchman!

"How could you let him in here?" he demanded as he slipped off his blankets and jumped out of bed.

"We thought it was the right thing to do, master," Cogsworth explained quickly. "He requested an audience with you specifically."

"Well of course he wants an audience with me!" the prince snapped as he tossed a coat over his shirt. "Gaston must have sent him here to try and threaten me into handing over Belle. Where is he now?"

"In the entrance hall," said Lumiere. "The guards are holding him there."

The prince quickly stormed through the door and out into the hallway.

"Master, wait!" Cogsworth shouted. "Don't forget your boots!"

* * *

><p>LeFou thought he'd known everything about being intimidated after being Gaston's lackey for so many years, but that was before he'd met the master of the Beast's castle. Two bewitched suits of armour held him in place as the prince came down the stairs to see him. He was no beast, which LeFou was <em>extremely<em> glad about, but the menacing look in his eyes made him think that he could be related to one. He looked a little familiar too, though he wasn't sure why.

"You!" Adam said as he stopped in front of him. "How DARE you try to trespass here!"

"Please," LeFou pleaded. "I can explain!"

"Save it! You're here to blackmail me into handing over Belle, is it? "

"No!" LeFou insisted. "This has nothing to do with Belle, I swear! Gaston doesn't even know I'm here. I came alone."

"It's true, master," Webster said from where he stood with the other enchanted objects. "The servants who were watching the gates say that they didn't see anyone apart from the gentleman. He even brought the mademoiselle's equine back with him."

"I don't care," the prince growled. "Lock him up. It's all he deserves for working with _him._"

"But master - !"

"NOW!" He was all out of mercy after what had happened to Belle in the forest. Gaston had hurt the woman he cared about, and for that both he and his minion deserved to be punished.

The prince turned around, intending to return to his room while his servants took care of the prisoner, when he saw someone standing on the top of the stairs: Maurice. His face began to feel incredibly warm as the old man stared at the scene in front him. Had he heard him shouting? Adam remembered when Maurice had come here six months ago, begging for mercy how he had locked him in a tower without so much of a second glance. Now he realized, shamefully, that he was doing the exact same thing with Gaston's lackey without even hearing him out first. He bowed his head. Maybe the monster in him really hadn't gone away if he wasn't even willing to give the man a chance to explain himself. He had come alone after all. If Belle were here, what would she think?

Slowly, he turned around to face LeFou again. It felt as though he'd been placed under some kind of light, and everyone in the foyer was looking at him, wondering what he was going to say next.

"Fine, I'll listen to him first. But I'm warning you," he said as he glared at LeFou. "If I think you're lying to me, I'm sending you straight to the tower."

LeFou didn't take the prince's threats to lock him up lightly. Once in the castle parlour, he told him and Maurice about everything that had happened with Gaston for the past six months, from his initial harmless attempts to pursue Belle, his obsessive search for her when she had escaped his wedding and his new plans to come to the beast's castle, kill Adam and take Belle back to the village.

"I tried to tell him that it was a bad idea," he finished. "But he didn't want to listen to me! He's just...not the same guy."

"We're glad you came to warn us when you did, LeFou," said Maurice. "Thank you."

Adam said nothing as he looked down at the mauve carpet beneath him. A few minutes ago he'd felt angry enough to throw a chair across the room, but now he just felt sick. "Is he...Gaston, really coming here?" he asked LeFou.

"That's what he told me," LeFou confirmed.

The prince nodded and stood up. "Excuse me."

"Wait," said LeFou.

Adam turned around to look at him. It suddenly occurred to LeFou that the reason why he looked so familiar to him was because his eyes were almost the exact same shade of blue as Gaston's. The only difference was that they had a depth to them that he'd never seen in Gaston's eyes before. He was sad he realized, _really _sad.

"I'm really sorry for all the trouble y'know," he said.

"I know, LeFou," the prince replied. "Thank you for telling me the truth." Not wanting to seem rude, he added, "I will speak to my servants and arrange accommodations for you until you're ready to return to the village." LeFou had mentioned that he was a brewer, perhaps he could arrange for him to work with the servants in the cellars if he didn't want to go back to the village right away. Either that or he could help take care of the horses in the stables, or tend to the plants in the grounds.

"Um...your highness-ness?" LeFou said as he turned around again.

"Yes...LeFou?"

"Is Belle doing alright?"

"My servants are attending to her. She was bitten by a wolf in the woods and is running a high fever right now."

"Oh," LeFou bit his lip nervously. "Well, I hear rose petal wine usually helps with fevers. It's what my ma used to give me when I was sick."

The prince paused. "I haven't thought of that. I'll check with my servants to see if we have anything. Excuse me."

"Wait," LeFou said again. "I'm sorry about Gaston killing your uh - beast. I mean, it's obvious he was yours, I uh..."

Adam shook his head and smiled grimly. "He's not dead. He's me."

He stepped out of the parlour leaving LeFou dumbstruck.

"I don't get it," he said as he turned back to Maurice. "I mean, Gaston mentioned something about knowing the hooded guy and the Beast were the same person when he woke up, only I didn't believe him then. What's going on?"

Maurice sighed. There was no point hiding the truth about the curse from LeFou if he was going to be staying with them for a while. He opened his mouth and recounted to him the story that Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth had told him a couple of days earlier.

* * *

><p>Adam wasted no time in making his way towards his room. He had a lot of information to absorb and needed a quiet place to pace and think. In a way, he was glad that he'd chosen to listen to LeFou because now he knew the truth: Gaston had been the villain all along, and Belle <em>hadn't<em> betrayed him that night he'd sent her back to her father. He immediately felt guilty for thinking she would do such a thing. _But then, why did she to reveal me to Gaston?_ LeFou hadn't exactly been clear on that part, and Adam could only draw vague conclusions to what had happened in turn. Had Gaston threatened Belle into revealing his whereabouts after hearing about the Beast from Maurice? He did _seem_ like the manipulative type...but Adam had sent Maurice to the village _months_ before the invasion! Surely, if he kept hollering for help Gaston would have eventually listened to him and sought the beast out at the castle. _Something must have happened, _the prince concluded, some sort of pivotal event must have occurred that night had caused Gaston to change his mind. He didn't know what it was exactly, but the more he thought about it, the queasier he felt, and the more glad he was that he'd rescued Belle when he did.

"Ah, master, there you are!" a voice said suddenly, breaking Adam from his pondering. "Is everything alright?"

The prince looked down to see the physician standing near his boots. He had been so distracted he'd almost stepped on him without realizing it. "Everything's fine M. Pomme. How is Belle doing?"

"Still delirious," M. Pomme replied. "She keeps saying..."

"...Beast?"

He nodded. "I've had Mrs. Potts brew her a tea with some sweetened herbs and ginger. It should calm her down, just for a little while."

"Tell me honestly, monsieur," said the prince. "Do you think she's going to get better?"

"So far things look promising, master. She is swallowing the medicine we give her, which is a good sign. As long as she continues to drink fluids I expect the fever won't get any worse."

"Oh," the prince replied. He would have preferred to hear a straight yes or no answer, but he knew of course that illnesses could be different from person to person. The fact that Belle's fever wasn't getting any _worse_ sounded hopeful, at least.

"Chin up, master," M. Pomme continued, reading the prince's uncertain expression. "The mademoiselle means a great deal to all of us. We all want nothing more than to help her recover from this."

"I know," Adam replied, smilingly faintly. "Thank you for taking care of her." Inside, he admired the fact that the servants held on to faith that Belle would get better. He was sure that nobody had any idea how exhausting it was for him to hope for _anything _these past couple days.

* * *

><p>Back in the spare bedchamber, Adam walked past his bedside table where he'd left out the magic mirror, and the book he had bought for Belle at Bridoré which was open to book four: <em>Perseus and Andromeda<em>, and sat down at the chess table next to the window. He'd just started to reassemble the board with vague thoughts of practising a new chess move until dinnertime when he heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Maurice, your highness," Belle's father replied. "Would you...do you mind if I come in for a moment?"

Puzzled, the prince crossed the room to open the door. "What is it?" he asked him. "Has...something happened to Belle?"

"No, or rather, I don't believe so. I was just wondering if I could offer you some company for a while."

The young man looked surprised at his request, but nonetheless, he stepped back to let him in the room. "Certainly, monsieur. Please, have a seat."

As Maurice sat across from the prince at the chess table, he found it difficult to process the idea that he truly was the same ferocious Beast who had imprisoned him in the tower all those months ago. He believed the story the servants him about the curse and how Adam was the son of the late provincial king and queen, but even with all these fancy titles associated with him, all he could really see him as was a boy with so many things left to learn about the world. Maurice admitted he felt a little unsure about seeing the prince alone like this, but he knew they had to smooth over a few things if he was going to continue to live in the castle with his daughter. Belle might have been the one to reach out to Adam were she awake, but as it was, she was still sick. If the prince wouldn't speak to his servants that left Maurice to break him out of his shell.

"That was a nice thing you did for LeFou," he began. "He's very grateful."

"It was the right thing to do," Adam replied. "I couldn't just punish him for a lack of judgment." His focus turned back to the chessboard again. Maurice sensed that he didn't want to say anymore on the subject and changed tacks.

"You must be worried after what he told you about Gaston coming back to the castle."

"I knew he would eventually," the prince shrugged. "That's no news to me."

"Well then, there must be s_omething _on your mind," Maurice pressed. "You haven't come out of your room at all since you brought us here two days ago. You haven't been coming down to eat, you've been avoiding your servants. So, what _are_ you thinking about?"

The prince sighed. "How do I know we're not the same, Gaston and I?" he asked. "I locked you up. I practically made Belle trade places with you so you could go free. After what LeFou said about Gaston, how can I be sure that I'm not just as bad as he is?"

"It _is_ true," Maurice nodded. "You and Gaston certainly have a lot of similarities; both rude, aggressive, hot-tempered, not to mention you both seem to have a thing for locking people's fathers up in dungeons." The prince blushed deeply at that. "But there's still one thing I don't understand. You made Belle a _permanent_ resident of the castle. You gave her a room to stay in, dresses to wear, a library. You spent months and months getting to know her and doing things to win her trust. Then, the one night you were finally ready to confess your love and earn back your humanity, you let her go. Why?"

"Because..." the prince paused, "...I knew I was only fooling myself into thinking she would have feelings for me. She only saw me as a monster. I couldn't bear the idea of her being with someone as hideous as me any longer."

"Is that really the only reason?" said Maurice.

"Huh?" said the prince. Up until now, he had believed that it was. His frightening looks had always been an obstacle, plain and simple. He only had to look in a mirror to know that he looked like the hellish offspring of Sin of Death. But not that night, he realized. He suddenly recalled the surge of butterflies he'd felt as Belle smiled at him in the ballroom, how easy it was for a few minutes to forget what he was in relation to her. He remembered the parting gaze she'd given him before she left with the mirror, the way her eyes seemed to look past his exterior, right into his very soul. He'd been trying so hard to bury the memories of their time together, he'd almost forgotten that he hadn't really been thinking about his appearance at all that night. On the contrary, he had been thinking about something quite different.

"I saw her expression as she looked in the magic mirror," he said softly, "And I knew she was in pain. I saw how afraid she was of losing you, and I knew..."

"You knew that you couldn't keep her there any longer," Maurice finished.

The prince nodded and then turned away sadly. It had been two weeks now, and he still couldn't understand how one little act of kindness could result in so much heartbreak. He almost jumped when Belle's father put a hand on his shoulder. Looking back at the old man, he could see that he was smiling at him.

"Allow me to share some counsel with you, your highness," he told him. "It's not the circumstances a man is placed in that tell him who he is; it's the way he _chooses _to act in them. I may not be an expert on magical beings, but I have a hunch that the enchantress was testing you by reversing your transformation. I mean, when you really think about it, why even try to help your servants? You weren't part of the curse anymore. You could have run off and started a new life for yourself, putting Belle and your household behind you. You were free to do whatever you wanted. Instead, you saved Belle, even though you believed she had betrayed you. You rescued a boy from a fire; you even pardoned LeFou for his trespasses. Look at all these things you've done now and tell me that you can't see a difference between you and the man who will stop at nothing to make Belle his wife."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I _could _have been him," Adam argued. "Every night I keep having dreams that I'm the beast. It's like I can't escape what I've always been."

"It is a difficult thing to be weighed down guilt," Maurice agreed. "Even more difficult to let go of it. Eventually however, you must learn to _forgive _yourself."

The prince stared at Maurice for a long moment, as though he hadn't seen him properly before. "Why are you being so kind to me?" he asked him finally. "You saw what I did. I locked you away. I took away your daughter. I could have let you freeze to death if she hadn't taken your place."

"Because I believe that it's wrong to think that people aren't capable of learning from their mistakes and changing their old ways," Maurice replied. "I may not have been able to understand what Belle meant she said you had 'changed' that night she came back to the village, but after seeing all the things you've done for her to get her away from Gaston, I do."

Adam could think of nothing to say in response. He was unable to understand how Belle's father could forgive him so easily when he himself could not. But he was grateful for his leniency, nonetheless. "I'm sorry for imprisoning you."

"I know," Maurice nodded. "And I also know that hiding in your room like this isn't doing anyone any favours. At the very least, go and see her. It might just help her feel better."

He left the room, leaving the prince feeling as though a heavy burden he'd been carrying inside of him had suddenly been lifted. He rolled his white bishop piece around in his fingers for a few minutes, lost in thought.

* * *

><p>"So thanks to all at once and to each one, whom we incite to see us crown'd at Scone."<p>

_With that Belle, closed the book as the story of _Macbeth _came to its end. For a moment, neither her nor the Beast spoke. Unlike _Romeo and Juliet, _which, to the Beast, was a portrait of a romantic fairytale,_ Macbeth _was a much darker play about betrayal, bloodlust and a man's slow descent into insanity. It disturbed him in more ways than he wanted to admit. "Belle?" he asked finally._

_Belle looked up from the book curiously. "Yes?"_

_"Do you think it's possible for a villain to go from bad to good? Like a character to become the opposite of Macbeth?"_

_"Of course it's possible, Beast," she nodded. "Although..."_

_"Although?"_

_"I don't think it's right to judge people as being plain 'good' or plain 'bad'," she told him. "It's all about the decisions we make as individuals."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Well, when you think about it, Macbeth's death came from the _choices_ he made," she explained. "He could have easily ignored the witches' prophecies and remained thane of Glamis and Cawdor. He could have even ignored Lady Macbeth's insistence that he murder King Duncan, but he didn't. It was because he made that decision to kill the king and kill Banquo and Macduff's family that drove him to his demise."_

_"So, even after he'd killed all those people he could have chosen to stop," the Beast surmised. "He could have made the decision to become honourable, but instead he just became more obsessed with killing and staying in power."_

_"Exactly," Belle nodded. "He even went back to those witches to _ensure _that nothing would jeopardize his future as king. I mean, even _that_ seems silly when you think about it. How do we even know the witches were telling him the truth about his future? They might have been tricking him."_

"_If they did, it was a pretty mean trick," said the Beast. Still, he saw her point. Maybe it was easier for Macbeth to think he was acting out of 'fate' or a 'prophecy' than believe he was capable of performing such evil acts on his own. Maybe the Beast might have thought the same way as Macbeth once, had the enchantress not intervened._

_"What about Alcestis from that play you read to me yesterday?" he continued._

_"What about her?"_

"_She gave herself up so her husband could live past the time of his death. But she didn't deserve to die, not like Macbeth did."_

"_She died because no one else would die in his place," Belle corrected. "She was devoted to Admetus, and wanted him to stay alive for their children. Her death was an act of love and self-sacrifice." _

_The Beast was silent. It was one thing to change yourself for someone you loved, but _sacrificing _your life for somebody else? Was it even possible? _But of course it was! _A voice inside him chided. He remembered, almost like a distant dream now, how Belle had traded places with her father so he could be free. Every day she spent in the castle wasn't for the Beast's benefit, it was for her father's. Suddenly, he didn't really feel like talking about Macbeth or Alcestis anymore._

_"Here, why don't we read _The Tempest_ next?" Belle said as she returned the book to the shelf. "I think you'll like it; romance, magic and _no _killings..."_

* * *

><p>Adam came to Belle's room late that night when he was sure all the residents of the castle were fast asleep. The curtains of her window had been drawn back to let in a ray of soft moonlight, which cast elongated shadows of crosses over the bed where she lay fast asleep. She seemed so still and silent and he realized that the tea the doctor had given her earlier was probably a factor.<p>

He sat down in the chair beside her bed, and for a few minutes watched as her slim figure rose and fell beneath the blankets. A part of him was angry that she could sleep so peacefully when his whole world was falling apart. Another part of him felt helpless, wondering how it was that out of all the things he'd tried to protect her from, this illness was the one thing she had to fight on her own.

"The truth is," he said to her, "I've been afraid to come and see you, knowing that I did this to you. I know your father meant well by what he said. But I still can't ignore it...I _know_ I'm a bad person. I've done terrible things. I've hurt people: my servants, your father, you. Even now, I can't trust myself to make the mistakes over again. But...when I'm with you, I don't feel so uncertain anymore. I just feel...human. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And that's why, why I'm so afraid. I'm afraid that if I tell you the truth I'll come to objectify you the same way Gaston did, and forget what it is that you really want."

"Beast," Belle muttered suddenly. He felt his heart thump faintly in his chest as she rolled towards him with her eyes closed, stretching out her bandaged arm out as though trying to reach for him. He hesitated and then slowly placed his hand in hers, marvelling at how easy it was to slide his fingers through hers now that he was no longer a beast. The soft touch of her skin was so different from anything he'd felt under the curse, but what did it mean, if she didn't know who he was? He could touch the hands of dozens of other women, he realized and still feel incomplete, knowing none of them would see him the way he wanted to be seen, say the words he desperately wanted to hear.

After a moment, Belle rolled away from him again, muttering nonsense words to herself. The prince wondered how it was that two people could be in the same room together and still be so far apart.

He would never regret his decision to let her go. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. That didn't mean that a part of his old self still vainly wondered what would have happened if she had known. If things would be different now if she'd saved him instead of the enchantress.

* * *

><p>His feet grew heavier with every step he took back to his room. It wasn't long before he knew he couldn't walk anymore, and fell to his knees.<p>

Under the moonlight's watching gaze, his hands were as white as snow. He hid his face in them, and for the first time in over ten years, he wept.


	19. Truth

"Ah, good evening, Diotima," Aristide said as he looked up from his desk at the blonde-haired woman entering the cottage. "That took longer than I expected. I trust you found what you were looking for?"

"That hunter is a tricky customer, but I believe I have finally found a suitable scenario for him," Diotima said proudly as she removed her cloak and hung it on the coat rack on the wall. "As of now, I just have to wait for the right time to spring the trap. What is that you're reading, by the way?"

"Oh, this?" Aristide replied, gesturing at the thick book lying out on the table. "It is just another commentary on the Que'nal for my research. Very fascinating read as a matter of fact."

"Pray tell, what is in it?"

"First, the author lays out the rules of our founders," he explained, "reiterating how our creed asks us to bring out the goodness in humans, but doing so by keeping their minds and souls intact. Then he goes on to discuss the history of order and how we help humans by _force_: changing their physical forms, taking them out of the natural way of things. He then raises an interesting question for the reader: is our kind going against the rules of our founders by using our magic to directly _manipulate_ mankind's choices?"

"Hmm...that _is_ an interesting question," Diotima agreed as she took a seat across from him. "The way I see it, humans have always had a choice. Adam and Eve had the choice not to eat from the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. Pandora had the option not to open the box that would unleash the evils into the world. Mord'u had the choice to mend the bond with his brothers, but he didn't. There was nothing to stop those individuals from making the right decision; rather they _chose _to be insubordinate on their own. Our job as enchanters is not to _force _our subjects to change – instead, we simply illuminate the path towards change, showing them the way of goodness, so to speak. Whether they choose to walk that path or not has _always _been their own choice to make."

"An excellent explanation, Diotima, and one I would speak for as well," said Aristide. "But alas, the commentators in this book are not as kind in their responses. Some of them in fact have declared our practice to be so unstable and such an insult to mankind's free will that they believe that we should be destroyed entirely, or that our practice will die out in a couple of centuries. We'll become the stuff of legends and fairy tales, and what's left of us will have to interbreed with humans to survive."

"A pity," Diotima said with a frown. "And to think that our kind has been living on this earth for over two millennia and we still cannot peacefully agree on the best way to use our magic to help humans. I do hope they were wrong about the extinction part. I was so hoping that I would live long enough to see Halley's comet at least three more times."

Aristide chuckled at that. "Well as they say, my dear; the life of man upon earth is a warfare," he replied. "And just as humans struggle every day with the choice to be good or evil, so too do we as enchanters struggle to find the most effective way to bring them to righteousness. Which reminds me: did you have any time to check up on your prince while you were out exploring?"

"I had some time to look in my mirror while I was in astral traffic, yes," said Diotima. "I am very pleased with him. He is progressing even more so than I hoped."

"Progressing?" Aristide repeated in surprise. "I don't know how much longer you plan to torture him, Diotima! The boy still has much to learn. First he was a boy unaware of his own selfishness; now he thinks his past mistakes make him unworthy of loving the girl..."

"He does have his faults, but I think he is stronger than we give him credit for."

"Really? How so?"

"I sensed a great change in him after he went to see the girl that night," she explained. "It was a sensation I can only envy humans for experiencing, almost like…do you remember what Saul experienced on his way to Damascus?"

"Ah," Aristide said in understanding. "You think he's converted to faith, has he?"

"Yes. I did not anticipate it, but it seems he's chosen that way by himself."

"Well that is definitely commendable. As they say, man has two needs. One is goodness, the other, forgiveness. And the man who comes to acknowledge a need for both of these things is a very wise man indeed."

"Exactly my sentiments, Aristide."

"And you still believe he will break the spell?"

"Not a doubt in my mind."

"And the hunter? When are you planning to go and see him?"

"I'll wait for him to come to the castle and see him and the prince together."

"Ah. And I'm guessing you'll want to stay here until then?"

"If that is all right with you."

"It's more than all right, Diotima," Aristide nodded. "In fact, your timing couldn't have been more perfect. Fotios came by earlier today with those ancient scrolls from Azerbaijan I was looking to read. You know that I can never understand those blasted Eldaen runes."

"You know I'm always happy to help you with your work, Aristide," Diotima said with a smile. "Show them to me now; I'll see what I can do to help translate."

* * *

><p>"<em>Unrecognizable, I went back to Athens, city of Pallas, and entered my house. The house itself was irreproachable, gave every sign of innocence, and was only anxious for its vanished master. With difficulty, by a thousand stratagems, I gained access to Erechtheus's daughter. When I saw her I was rooted to the spot, and almost relinquished my thoughts of testing her loyalty. Indeed I could hardly keep from confessing the truth, and hardly keep from kissing her, as I ought. She was sad (but no one could be more lovely than her in her sadness). She grieved with longing for the husband who had been snatched away." <em>

"Master?"

The prince looked up from book seven of _Metamorphoses: Cephalus and Procris _to see Lumiere waiting for him by the door of the library.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Belle is awake."

Hearing this news, the prince closed the book with a start. This was not a complete surprise to him, however. Over the past twenty-four hours Belle had slowly been coming around. The previous morning, M. Pomme had checked in on her to find her sweating profusely from her broken fever. By the afternoon, she began to regain consciousness, complaining that her arm was hurting and she was thirsty. The servants had only had enough time to redress her wounds and give her some laudanum before she'd fallen asleep again. Now she was awake. Awake and from the sound of it, almost fully recovered. "Did you - ?"

"No, master," Lumiere replied. "I didn't say a word to her, just as you asked. But if you're going to tell her the truth, make sure you do it quickly. I believe she's already starting to suspect there's something we're not telling her."

The prince sighed. "I know, Lumiere. I just need to...think about how I'm going to say it first."

But as he looked down at his book again, he couldn't help feel a pang of uncertainty for what he had to do tonight. Speaking his mind had never been an easy thing for him, and in many ways he could see how tonight could go wrong rather than right. He wanted to know that Belle would forgive him and understand why he'd hidden the truth from her, but it was his fear that she wouldn't that kept him from seeing her right then and there.

As the prince walked over to the table to set his book down, Lumiere took a moment to study the outfit he was wearing today: a white shirt with lace cuffs, a plain cravat and a laurel green waistcoat that had once belonged to the late prince. It filled him with a sense of pride to see his master finally dressing in clothes befitting his title, but also a bit of wistfulness, knowing he wasn't an ill-mannered little boy anymore. He'd even heard from one of the other servants that they'd seen him go to the castle chapel to pray the other day, something he hadn't done since his parents had died over ten years ago.

"Master?" he said as he turned around again.

"Yes, Lumiere?"

"I know that you think you fell in love with Belle for the wrong reasons. But love is what it is. It may not happen at the right time or the right place, but you can't simply push it away once it comes to you. Why, just look at Babette and me. Here I was, almost ten years older than she was, but from the moment I met her, I knew that age did not matter. I had found _la femme de ma vie_. What I'm trying to say is that if you love Belle, you must tell her. The truth will explode from you if you don't."

"I know, Lumiere," Adam repeated. "And I _am_ going to speak to her, I promise. I just...," he sighed. "I just need time."

* * *

><p>"Hiya Belle!"<p>

"Chip!" Mrs. Potts scolded. "Not so loud! Belle is still sick, remember?"

"That's all right, Mrs. Potts," Belle replied with a weak smile. She was lying in her old canopy bed, her blankets covering up the cushions that supported her still-healing ankle. She'd missed hearing Chip's voice, as she had missed hearing from all of the other servants for that matter. Seeing everyone around her now was enough to make her feel more at home than she'd felt in several weeks.

"May I just say that it's good to see some color back in your cheeks, mademoiselle," Cogsworth added from where he stood beside Lumiere. "You were in such a terrifying state when you first arrived, some of us were afraid you weren't going to be out of the woods for quite some time."

"Thank you, Cogsworth," Belle said with a nod. "And I am _very _glad to be back." She didn't know where she'd gone in the past few days, only that she never wanted to return. All she remembered was someone calling her name, her nose being brushed up against something soft and a pair of deep blue eyes watching her, but before she could reach out to whomever it was, she would be pulled into oblivion, trapped in a place where winter storms were endless. Sometimes she would see the Beast fall from his tower, and unable to save him she would watch helplessly as he fell to his death, his blood pooling around her feet until she drowned in it. Other times she would be running in the forest from the white-eyed Beast, only to lose her footing and be eaten alive by him. Looking around her now, she realized that one person was missing from the room.

"Is Adam still here?" she asked Mrs. Potts.

"Of course, dear," she replied. "He's helping out in the gardens right now."

_Gardening?_ That was an awfully kind thing for him to be doing. "May I…speak with him?"

"Certainly. We'll tell him to go and see you as soon as he comes inside."

Belle nodded. She'd felt terrible about leaving Adam alone in the woods to fight Gaston, and wanted to personally thank him for going out of his way to rescue her and her father. She could only imagine how strenuous that must have been for him, given the circumstances. "And the Beast?" she continued. "Did you...find him?"

"_Oui, _we have taken care of him, Belle," Lumiere affirmed. "Don't you worry about a thing."

"I'd like to go and visit him if that's alright."

"But of course, mademoiselle! But you must rest up a bit first. The m-"

"- Adam," Cogsworth corrected sharply.

The two servants looked at each other, stunned. "The _madame!" _they both shouted together.

"_Sacrebleu, _how could we forget?" said Lumiere. "She will want to help you change into a clean nightgown now that you are feeling better."

"Yes, yes. Never hurts to freshen up a bit you know!"

Belle looked on in confusion at the two servants' abrupt change of subject. This wasn't the first time they'd been acting strangely of course. _All _the servants for that matter had been acting odd and jumpy since she'd regained consciousness. When she'd first come around the day before, Mrs. Potts had told her that Adam had scared off the wolves in the forest and that he and Maurice had used Gaston's horse to carry her unconscious through the woods until they found shelter at the castle. She knew that at least part of this story was a lie. She was sure that it was the Beast's eyes she'd seen before she'd passed out; sure it was him that had killed that wolf in the forest. But all the servants, even her father acted as though they had no idea what she was talking about. It was very baffling and frustrating. If the Beast was still alive, why was he asking the household to keep it a secret from her? Why didn't he want her to know the truth?

Following Lumiere and Cogsworth's blunder, the servants cleared the room to allow Belle privacy to change.

"Madame de la Grande Bouche?" she said as the enchanted wardrobe helped her slip into a new nightgown with a frilly scoop neckline and quarter sleeves.

"Yes hon?"

"Was there...a prince who lived in this castle?"

"A prince?" she repeated, laughing nervously. "Why would you get an idea like that?"

"Well, you live in a castle," she pointed out. "You served a master. Was he ever…? Oh, never mind." The idea sounded ridiculous now. She knew of a prince and princess that had ruled the province when she was still living in the city with her parents, but they had died many years ago. They had both been quite old when they'd passed, and Belle couldn't even remember if they _had _any heirs beforehand. The prince's younger brother was managing the throne right now, so she assumed not.

"You've been out of it for almost a week, hon," Madame de la Grande Bouche said as she folded up her old nightgown to take to the laundry. "I think you should just focus on getting your strength back. It will all...come to you eventually."

"I guess you're right," Belle agreed reluctantly. She'd just recovered from a high fever. Maybe she was overanalyzing things. This was what she wanted to tell herself, but as the hours passed she found it impossible to fall asleep. The questions in her head only seemed to grow bigger and bigger. How was the Beast still alive? What was he doing in the forest? By the time Madame de la Grande Bouche started snoring from her corner of the room, Belle had made up her mind. She couldn't lie here and wait for the answers to come to her. It was like being in the middle of a gripping storybook and wanting so desperately to know how it ended. She got out of bed, grabbing her peignoir from the chair as she stood unsteadily on her ankle. While the laudanum M. Pomme had given her earlier dulled most of the pain in her arm and leg, it didn't make walking for her any easier. It took her over a minute to walk to the doors, by which time she began to wonder if she'd made a mistake. _But you've come so far just to find the truth_,a voice urged. _You can't just back out now!_

Her mind began to think of possibilities. Where would she go to look for information? The library? She looked down at her ankle and shook her head, it would be impossible to climb a ladder in this condition. Not to mention that it would be alarming for Webster and LaPlume to see her searching for books when the doctor said she shouldn't be out of bed for another day or so.

_The West Wing, _she realized suddenly._ Of course!_ No one would be in there, except for him. Yes, the best place to go was where it had all started.

She turned back to the room to ensure Madame de la Grande Bouche was still asleep, and then made her way down the dark corridor; staying close to the walls in case she lost her balance.

* * *

><p>"Thank you for helping me cut these tulips, LeFou," the prince said as they stepped through the South entrance of the castle, a bouquet of freshly cut white tulips in his hand.<p>

"No problem, Your Highness! I hope Belle likes them."

For the past few hours, LeFou and the prince had been out in the gardens looking for some flowers to bring to Belle during Adam's talk with her tonight. Their encounter had been completely accidental, starting when LeFou had found the prince in the stables rehearsing his apology speech with Magnifique. Adam found LeFou to be a pleasant fellow to talk to, though he did have a bit of a tendency to ramble. He talked about life at the village while Adam tried relating back similar anecdotes about his servants at the castle. It was mainly small talk, but the prince found the little man surprisingly easy to talk to, and helpful for keeping away his anxieties about his meeting with Belle tonight.

"And hey, look on the bright side," LeFou added as they turned into the hallway that lead to the kitchens. "She'll probably like those flowers a lot better than having a whole _wedding ceremony _at her door."

"Oh...oh, yes," Adam replied. Given what he knew about Gaston now, he could definitely understand why Belle had turned him down that day in the village. It was one thing to try to impress a girl, but to plan a whole wedding without even proposing to her first? Gaston had to be a complete idiot to think that Belle would actually fall for him that easily. Adam's curse would have been broken months ago if that were truly the case. "Um, LeFou, if I may ask," he added. "How did you end up working for Gaston to begin with?"

"Oh." LeFou looked slightly startled by the prince's question. "Well, I don't exactly work for him," he explained. "We're pals. It's just the way it's always been, ever since I was five and my pa moved us to the village and started working for Gaston's father at the tavern. We were around the same age, so our fathers introduced us. We'd play together in the tavern whenever my pa came in to restock the beer barrels in the back. Gaston's not a bad person..." he continued slowly. "He was really fun growing up, and he's done a lot of important stuff for our village. He's just..."

"Made a few bad decisions?" Adam suggested. Didn't that sound familiar.

"Yeah," LeFou said, nodding. He felt a bit weird admitting it, but it was exactly that. Of course, everyone made mistakes, but he had never realized that the word "mistake" could also apply to Gaston. After all, Gaston was his hero! Trying to envision him being imperfect was like trying to envision Belle actually falling in love with an animal – a picture that just didn't mesh.

"And uh, speaking of Gaston," Lefou added curiously. "What are you going to do when he gets here?"

The prince paused. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm hoping to be civil. Speak with him and let him off with a warning."

"Maybe you should let me deal with him first," LeFou suggested. "I can explain that it's all a misunderstanding."

Adam considered that. He wasn't sure how well Gaston would respond to the revelation that Adam was a prince of an enchanted castle if LeFou told him the truth, but as Belle always said, it was better to prevent a fight than to start one. And LeFou did know Gaston pretty well. Maybe he could make him change his mind. "Well, if you think it will stop him from attacking the castle."

"I'll give it a shot," LeFou promised. "You just worry about your talk with Belle tonight. I'll handle Gaston." Of course LeFou didn't exactly know how he'd handle Gaston, but he'd already helped set off this crazy plot of his. The least he could do now was to help end it before it really started to get out of hand.

After this conversation, LeFou went to retire to the servants' quarters for the night while Adam made his way to Belle's room. The prince had originally offered LeFou a room like Belle and Maurice's to stay in, but for some reason LeFou had insisted he was more comfortable staying in the servants' quarters. Adam had decided not to press the issue. Staying in the servants' rooms would give LeFou better access to the grounds and the kitchens anyway, which was where he was most needed by the castle staff during the day.

As Adam passed by the doors to the kitchens he could hear Lumiere's voice: "I feel terrible about tricking Belle like this. If the master doesn't tell her the truth by tonight, we will have to simply tell her ourselves."

He knew the servants were counting on him to carry out this conversation with Belle tonight. He just wished they could understand exactly how difficult it was for him. He hated living with the uncertainty of not knowing what Belle would say to him, the same way he had hated living with the uncertainty of not knowing if his spell would break. In a way, he admitted this was why he had hidden himself from Belle when he'd first rescued her. It was so easy to hide behind the persona of Adam, save her without the awkwardness of their past relationship and pretend that he was braver and tougher than he actually was. Adam had been a shield for the prince after the heartbreak he'd experienced knowing Belle's love hadn't changed him back. But he also knew that he was also a crutch. Adam wasn't who he really was. He couldn't hide from his past forever.

As he made his way up the stairs, the prince thought about the story of _Cephalus and Procris_ he'd read earlier that morning in the library. In that book, when Procris discovered the man who had tried to seduce her was in fact her husband in disguise, she was so enraged she'd run away to join a hunting cult. The prince hadn't disguised himself to test Belle's fidelity the same way Cepalus had, but a part of him still wondered if she would be angry like Procris once she learned the truth. He couldn't read minds, and had no way of knowing if she would be upset or frightened or refuse to associate with him again when she found out who he was.

By the time he made it to Belle's door the prince almost considered just walking into her room as he was, hoodless. He could convince Belle that he was the Beast, act like he'd been waiting for her this entire time, even tell her that Adam had left the castle to continue to pursue his enchantress so she'd never have to know the truth. _But then you'd be lying to her again_. To be dishonest with her now would make him just as bad as Gaston. And he wasn't going to take that path, not again. After a moment of quiet reflection he pulled the hood of his cloak over his face. _I'm not hiding from her, _he told himself._ I'll ease her into it first. Reveal myself when I think she's ready._

Tentatively, he knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again.

"Mademoiselle?" he called. When no one responded, he opened the door. Much to his surprise, Belle's bed was empty, and Madame de la Grande Bouche was sound asleep. "Not again," he grumbled as he walked over to her. "Madame?"

The enchanted wardrobe woke with a start. "Oh, master!" she said as she looked down at him. "What can I do for you?"

"Where is Belle?"

"Well, she's…" she looked towards the bed, only to realize she was missing from it. "Oh, my! Well she was here before I fell asleep."

The prince groaned. "You can barely fit through the door of this room, and you can't keep an eye out for her?"

"I'm sorry, master! I thought she was sleeping. I didn't know she could get out of bed on her own yet."

"Confound it, she could be anywhere by now!" He dropped the tulips to the floor as he drew the magic mirror out from his cloak. "Show me Belle," he commanded.

* * *

><p>The West Wing was a drastically different place from how Belle remembered it from two weeks earlier. Broken and discarded furniture lay everywhere. Portraits she were sure had been whole the night she'd left to find her father were now scratched and shredded. Behind an overturned chaise, she could see one of the windowpanes had a huge shattered hole in it. The only furnishings in the room that remained untouched were the canopy bed, dressed with new sheets and red curtains and the stone table where the bell jar remained.<p>

By instinct, her feet took her to the last place she had seen the Beast alive: the bell jar table. The rose – or what was left of it – lay wilted on the surface of the table beneath a thick layer of dust. She stared at it for a long moment, then lifted the glass to pick up the stem. She held it to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to travel back to that night and hear the soft timbre of his voice again, but all she heard was silence.

She had never learned of the significance of this rose, or the strange power it held over him. Now, as she held its dry and shrivelled remains in her hands, she felt more alone than ever before. What was she thinking, coming back here? This wasn't a fairy tale. The Beast was dead and wasn't coming back. She'd never find the answers she was looking for. This was all for nothing.

She opened her eyes again as a heavy feeling pressed down in her chest, so hard she could barely breathe. Tears came pouring down her face like rain. And then she heard the door close abruptly behind her.

"Mademoiselle?" Adam said as she turned around with a start. "What are you doing here? You should be resting!"

" I-I..." Belle stammered as she stared at the hooded man. For a moment she wanted to ask him the same question, but her mouth seemed to have forgotten how to move. How could she explain to Adam why she had come here tonight? Despite the few conversations they'd had together he was still a stranger to her. She didn't even know how much the servants had told him about the Beast while she was unconscious. But then, he saw the rose in her hand and seemed to understand everything.

"Come here," he said gently.

Slowly, he took the stem from her and set it back on the table. He then led her to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress with her.

"Your hands are like ice," he said as he touched them. He tried to rub warmth back into them with his own hands, searching her expression to see if he was making her uncomfortable, but her eyes were only filled with tears and grief, grief, he thought, that no one should have to experience on their own.

"You're thinking about the Beast, aren't you?" he said before he could stop himself.

Belle nodded and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm a monster. It's my fault he's dead."

"How can it be your fault? You didn't kill him."

"But I did. I _led _the mob to him."

And then, because she knew she knew she couldn't keep it to herself any longer, she took a breath and told him the story, right from the beginning. Adam sat in numb shock, hearing about horrible things he never ever imagined Belle would have to experience on her own. Belle had been desperate to save her father from the asylum that night she'd returned to the village. So desperate that she'd tried to prove his delusions were real by showing the villagers the Beast's image in the magic mirror. When she'd tried to assure them that he was harmless, Gaston retaliated and arranged an entire mob of townsmen to kill him. Belle had tried to stop him, but ended up being locked in the cellar with Maurice instead. By the time Chip had managed to break the cellar door open and Belle managed to hitch up Philippe to back to the castle, she was too late. From the castle viaduct she watched as Gaston pushed the Beast from his tower. She wept profusely over his mangled body until Gaston took her away, sentencing her to house arrest until she agreed to marry him. During that time her thoughts had only been for the Beast. Even when he wasn't in her waking thoughts, he would be in her dreams. Every night she'd be haunted by visions of being chased by his undead corpse. Every night she would see a man with the Beast's eyes, asking her desperately to free him, but she didn't know how.

"I thought that everything would go away…make sense again if I came back," she said as she wept softly into Adam's shoulder. "After what _he _told me..."

"You...you, really think that the Beast and the man in your dreams are the same person?" Adam replied, running a hand awkwardly through her hair.

"I don't know!" she cried. The facts were making less sense by the moment. Nothing was making sense anymore. He had told her to come here, so by all means, he _should _be here.

"Mademoiselle," Adam continued hesitantly. "May I ask you a personal question? Did you…love the Beast?"

_Love?_ At that, Belle looked up at Adam with a start. Was that love she'd felt for the Beast when they'd played out in the snow together? As they'd read those books together in the library? As they'd danced together in the ballroom? She couldn't believe it. After all this time, she had had feelings for the Beast, but it wasn't until Adam had asked her now that she realized... "Yes. YES!" she exclaimed. "And I'd give _anything _to see him again."

Belle couldn't read Adam's expression under his hood, but she thought she could sense him tense up at these words. He got up and walked to the window without saying anything to her. _Is he angry at me? _she wondered. Well, why wouldn't he be? After the sacrifice he'd made for that girl he loved, he probably knew exactly how the Beast felt. He probably _hated _her for what she'd done to him.

"Adam?"

"If you loved the Beast," he said, voice shaking, "Then why did you agree to marry Gaston?"

"I had no choice," she replied desperately. "He was going to let my father die if I didn't agree. I couldn't lose anyone else, not after _him_. Surely you can understand that?"

_Of course I can, _the prince thought in anguish_._ He understood everything perfectly now. When Gaston couldn't talk Belle into marrying him by locking Maurice up, he decided to go after a more valuable prize. He'd seen that Belle had feelings for the Beast that night and tried to kill him as a way of controlling her. Now the prince wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms now and apologize for ever doubting her, for letting her suffer under the hands of that man, but it was Adam that kept him in place. She said she'd fallen in love with the Beast after all. She didn't know he was a human…yet.

"Adam," Belle said with sudden suspicion as she got off the bed. "May I ask _you_ a personal question? Why did Gaston say you had the Beast's body back in the forest?"

At that, Adam looked back at her nervously. "He was just saying that."

But the tone of his voice left her unconvinced. "Did you come to the castle before you rescued me?" she said as she stepped closer to him. "Did the servants – the _Beast _send you to save me and my father?"

"Belle, just wait..."

"I won't!" she snapped. "If you know where the Beast is, if you know if he's still alive, please tell me!"

She took another step towards him and that was when she saw that silver glimmer under his cloak again. What she had thought was a knife on their first night together in the farmhouse wasn't in fact a knife at all. It was a mirror. The _Beast's _mirror.

"You _have_ been here," she said with triumph.

"What?" said Adam. He whipped around just in time to see her grab the mirror from his belt. "Wait, give that back!"

"No!" she shouted. "You have no right to it! He gave it to me. Show me the Beast!" This was the moment of truth, she thought. She would find out where the beast was, everything would fall into place. But a minute passed, and the mirror only continued to show her tear-stained reflection.

"No...," she cried in anguish. "No!"

It took a moment for Adam to understand why the mirror wasn't showing his image to Belle. It only showed things to the holder as they knew them, not as they were. Belle couldn't see the Beast, because her _idea_ of him no longer existed in the present world. She hadn't made the connection that he and the Beast were the same person yet.

"Belle."

"No! He's still here! He has to be!"

"Belle!"

"I just, I need to see him again."

"BELLE!" he shouted as he grabbed both her shoulders, "Listen to me. I know. I know."

He looked straight into her eyes, and it killed him because she was crying. He had done this. He had taken it this far. He had hurt her, far more than he'd ever hurt anyone before, and now she was mourning, pining so desperately for her Beast, and he didn't even know where to begin to explain why it had taken him this long to tell her the truth. All he knew was that he had to fix this, bring her out of this darkness and back to the Belle he knew and loved.

It wasn't Adam who gently pried the magic mirror away from her hands. It wasn't Adam who reached up to wipe a tear from her face. And it wasn't Adam who he bent down and gently pulled her into a kiss.

At first, Belle was too terrified to move. She wanted to back away, but another voice in her heart told her to stay put. This wasn't like Gaston's kiss. It wasn't forceful and possessive, it was soft and amorous, just like the kisses she'd read about in her fairy tales. After a moment, she closed her eyes and felt herself begin to respond. A strange, comforting warmth began to envelope her, one that made her feel like she was with the Beast again, that she was in fact _kissing _the Beast.

The sensation only lasted for a moment before he pulled away from her. For a minute, neither of them could speak. _What have I done? _Belle thought in a panic. She shouldn't be kissing him! She'd only enjoyed it because she was upset and needed comfort, she barely knew him, really. It didn't mean anything.

"I'm...s-sorry," she stammered as she turned away.

"Wait," said Adam. And though she wanted very badly to return to her room, lie down and ignore these new and alarming sensations flaring up inside of her, the soft timbre of his voice made her look back.

She felt butterflies in her stomach as his fingers slid through the strands of her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Something was beginning to dawn upon her, something impossible but seemed to make more sense than anything she'd thought about all night.

Trembling, she took a step forward and pulled the hood off his face.


	20. Flesh

_A/N: A quick warning to readers, there is a sex scene in this chapter. I've had it previewed by a few members of the Bittersweet and Strange forum to ensure it's safe enough for a 'T' rating_,_ but in case sex scenes aren't your thing, I've decided to place three bold Xs before and after that section so you can skip over it if you wish. Skipping this part will not affect your understanding of what happens in upcoming chapters and I will NOT be offended if you choose to pass on it. Capisce? _

_Thank you to TrudiRose for editing, and to SamoaPhoenix9 and nikkianjo for previewing. _

* * *

><p>In every person's life there comes a moment of realization when something they knew, or should have known, finally comes bubbling to the surface. Belle's first time experiencing such a moment was when her mother died. At eight years old, she had always believed her mother would recover from her illness, even though the doctor and her father kept trying to instill the possibility in her that she wouldn't. When her mother finally did pass away, Belle locked herself in her room for almost a week, refusing to accept the truth even though it was staring her right in the face. She stopped speaking, and spent almost three months burying herself in her mother's storybooks before she started talking again. By that point, her Aunt Marguerite had moved in to help her and her father take care of the house until they decided to move to the countryside.<p>

Now, as she stood in the West Wing, Belle found herself in a near-similar situation. She could finally see the face of the man who had rescued her, the man who had kept his identity from her for 'personal reasons', only to realize that he looked exactly like –

_No, that's not possible, _she told herself. He was only a hallucination, a bad side effect of the laudanum M. Pomme had given her. She averted her eyes, taking a step backwards, then another...

"Belle," he called out.

"No," she muttered. "You're not real. I need to...to get back to my room. I need to rest."

She took another step back, forgetting that her left ankle was weaker than her right one. She fell backwards, but before she could hit the floor, Adam's strong arms came around her. An intoxicating smell of fresh grass washed over her as he helped her regain her balance, not unlike the smell of the grass in the fields she used to lie in back home. His breath was warm on her face as he propped her against the footboard of the bed, but still she would not let herself turn to him, she would not let herself see...

"Belle, please, look at me."

_I can't,_ she thought, eyes brimming with tears as they focused themselves on a crooked portrait on the wall. _It's just another illusion. You're all in my head. You're not real. _

When Adam realized Belle wasn't going to answer him, he tried speaking to her a different way. "Belle, do you remember how you and the Beast used to go to the library every day to read books together?" he asked.

Belle swallowed hard. "I...I don't know."

"Come on, Belle. A new adventure every day, remember?" he pressed. "One day, you read a book to him about a boy who drew a sword out from a stone and became the king of Camelot. The Beast liked it so much, he asked you to read it to him again. Instead, you asked him to read it to you. He must have made over a hundred mistakes going through that book, but you were there to correct him the entire time." His voice cracked as though this memory had as much emotional significance for him as it did for her. "By the time you finished it he could only be amazed by what you had done for him. He thought, 'If only I were a man, I could give Belle everything she's ever wanted. I could make her understand why I need to keep her here. I could show her who I really was.'"

He took her hand, and Belle felt chills run through her skin where they touched, though she couldn't make herself understand why. "This is who I really am, Belle," he said. "I know you're scared and confused, but you _have_ to believe me. Please."

_One, two, three..._Belle counted the seconds through the number of breaths she took through her nose. The walls she'd built around herself were only paper thin and were already starting to fall apart. She remembered now the little quirks she'd observed about Adam while they were on the road together. How he never showed his face to her, even when they were sleeping. The aura of moodiness that was around him at all times. The girl he'd told her about, the one he'd left behind because he loved her enough to let her go. _What if that girl wasn't from a village at all?_ she wondered. _What if he was talking about _me?

The initial shock factor of the situation was leaving her. Adam was still holding her hand and she was no longer hyperventilating. After a long moment she finally forced herself to look back at him.

Belle admitted to herself that in the later part of their journey to Saint-Jean-le-Blanc, she had begun to wonder if Adam had some kind of scar or deformity that made him conceal his face from her and her father. Seeing him now, however, this was definitely not the case. Adam was handsome. Breathtakingly handsome. How old had he said he was? Twenty-one? In addition to his strong chin and full lips, she could see he had a strong nose and long eyebrows that curled up at the ends, giving him a slightly perturbed look. His hair was tied back in a ponytail - different from how she'd perceived him in her dreams, but still, the red hair colour and part were exactly the same. And his eyes. She spent the longest time looking at his eyes. Round and blue, like the blue of a distant sea.

She had never known she could miss the soul within those eyes so terribly until that moment.

"It is you!" she cried. Then, losing all of her inhibitions, she embraced him and sobbed harder than she ever had in her life. The prince didn't show any restraint, but wrapped his arms tightly around her as he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. He was responsible for giving her this pain. He would stay with her for as long as she needed him.

After what seemed an eternity, they finally let go of each other. Adam's knees were killing him at this point, so he moved over to sit beside Belle against the bed. Belle refused to let go of his arm, as though he were a kite that would fly away if she didn't hold on tight enough.

"But I don't understand," she said to him once he had settled. "What happened to you? I was there when you fell. I saw you bleeding. I thought you had _died._"

"I was supposed to," he replied grimly. "But an enchantress brought me back to life."

"Enchantress?" she repeated in surprise. "You were under a spell, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"And the servants as well?"

He nodded.

"So that means...," she paused. "You really are _a prince!_"

"_Was," _he corrected."I'm not exactly sure what I am now."

But Belle was too mesmerized in the details about the curse to absorb this information. _An enchanted castle. A beast who was a prince, and talking objects who were actually household servants. _The idea was completely fascinating to her, like something she'd read in a storybook. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony. "Why didn't you tell me it was you?" she said as she turned back to him. "All those times we were alone in the woods and you never said a word to me."

"I thought it would be…better this way."

"Better?" she repeated. "How on earth was that better? I thought you were _dead!" _

"Belle, _I'm sorry_. But you have to understand. You'd made your decision to go back to your father. I couldn't interfere with that."

"I went to my father because he was _sick," _she corrected."He would have died alone in the woods if no one helped him. And after all this time, you thought that I didn't care, that I wouldn't come back to see you when he was better?"

"I didn't expect you would want to. Not after what I did to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Belle," he sighed, and the heaviness in his voice made her feel as though she had opened a door into an unexpectedly frigid winter storm. "In another life, one where I was never cursed, we would have never met. Don't you understand? The only reason I kept you here as my prisoner was because I would be a Beast forever if I couldn't get you to love me before the last petal of the rose fell. You were a _pawn _for my freedom. That night with the dinner and the dancing, it was all a desperate attempt to get my humanity back. I didn't even consider your father until you mentioned him to me on the balcony. When I saw how worried you were for him..._I knew. _Even if you did manage to break the spell on me, that life I'd stolen away from you...it would always come back to haunt me. I _hated _myself for what I'd done to you. I knew I had to let you go."

Belle took a moment to sit on this information. "But if you only wanted me here to break your spell," she said, "Then why did you come to rescue me?"

"For the same reasons Adam gave you that night in the tavern," the prince explained. "I saw...heard Gaston was planning to marry you so he could use you as a personal possession, and I knew that was wrong. Nobody was going to help you get out of that village, so _I did._ I knew if I was going to free you, I was going to do it properly. I wanted you to have the freedom to _choose _the person you would spend the rest of your life with, find someone who didn't see you as an object, but saw you for _you_. That someone isn't Gaston." He paused. "And it isn't me either."

"But it _is_ you," Belle replied. How could he not see that? "It's always been you! Gaston wanted to treat me as a trophy, to have something attractive to wear on his arm. But not you. You've risked your life twice for me; you saved me from those wolves in the forest. You listened to me in a way no one in my village has ever listened; even let me read my favourite books to you. You let me go to my father without expecting anything in return. And after all this time you've been hiding your face from me, thinking...you're not good enough? That you deserve to be _alone?"_

"I've been alone for over ten years, Belle. It doesn't matter now."

"It matters to me," she said tearfully as she touched his cheek. "I know you've been suffering. I felt it in my dreams...I heard you calling out to me every night. Maybe I didn't come back in time, but I'm here for you now. You don't have to be alone anymore. Neither of us do. We can find a way to break the rest of the spell together. _Please."_

With great hesitation, Adam looked back into Belle's eyes. It amazed him that no matter what he looked like, she had a way of seeing right through him, into his very soul. He couldn't believe what a fool he was. After all this time he had believed Belle didn't care, that he was a bad memory to her, that he should abandon the idea that she'd had any feelings for him, even making up blatant excuses to why they couldn't be together. But now, she'd come back to him, was practically begging him to come to his senses. She'd helped him tear down too many walls in the past few months, and suddenly he didn't have the strength to keep them up anymore.

The air seemed to grow a degree warmer as he moved his face closer to hers. There was a terrible pounding in his heart and clamminess in his palms. Vaguely, he knew he was supposed to say something to her, but his mind seemed to be all out of words. The only thing that mattered was how soft her hand felt against his cheek; and how bright her eyes looked in the moonlight.

**XXX**

When it came down to it, it was easy, easier than breathing. Something he had never been able to express as a Beast awakened in him as a man. All those days he'd spent worrying about her condition, months waiting for her to return his love, broke from him like a dam as he pulled her closer to him.

He remembered on the first night after his transformation how he had lain awake in bed, imagining what it would be like to touch her with human hands. Now, as they stood up off the floor, he began to explore the delicate curves that made up her body, all those savoury things about female anatomy Lumiere had once told him about, and he finally understood what he had meant. He began to trail kisses on her neck, feeling the tension leave her body as she moaned softly in response. Her fingers reached for something on his chest, and when he pulled away, it was to see her jerk open the fastener of his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. She looked at him with what he could only perceive as desire and curiosity, and then, understanding what she wanted, he imitated her, untying the ribbon of her peignoir and sliding it off her shoulders.

He didn't remember when exactly they moved from the floor to the bed, but the action seemed mutual, something they decided on together. She sat on the edge of the mattress as he kissed her forehead, her nose, her neck, her collarbones, her ears, feeling her shiver from the unexpected contact but unable to ask him to stop. Not very long ago she'd dreaded the idea of Gaston deflowering her; now she didn't want Gaston to be her first. She wanted _him, _to know he was real, to draw out the poison they'd both been carrying in themselves for far too long.

One by one, they removed the rest of their clothes, the last being her nightgown which he removed himself. Belle felt the air around her grow cold, then warm again as he studied her body, looking uncertainly at her bandaged arm and bruised leg. But she only pulled him closer, telling him it was all right, it didn't hurt anymore, she wanted him to touch her. Still, she felt a little nervous as he lay her down on the pillows. She had never done this before, and while she hadn't asked him, she was quite sure he hadn't either. As she continued to read his troubled expression she began to wonder if it was too soon, if this was too much for them to do all at once. But then he wrapped her hands in his and started kissing her again, and the slow, gentle brush of his lips felt so amazing against her bare skin it seemed to erase all sense of herself until she knew she couldn't wait any longer. She wanted him. There was a fire growing inside of her and she wanted him desperately to quench it.

She remembered him apologizing profusely for the pain when it came, but the discomfort she experienced was only a tiny pinch compared to the agonizing weeks she'd spent believing him dead. As time passed, the pain subsided. Soon she began to feel wonderful pleasure radiate through her as she gasped and moved in time with him, and the movement almost reminded her of...dancing. All she knew was that she didn't ever want to forget this feeling, this feeling of wholeness, where all walls between them were gone until it was as though they were one soul inhabiting two bodies.

She couldn't remember what she said to him afterwards, or what he said in reply. What she did remember was him caressing her hair and the tears she felt on his face when she moved up to kiss him. She took strength from his warmth, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon hers, and when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was the first time in several nights that she had no nightmares.

She'd lost him once, and now that she'd given herself to him completely, she promised herself that she would never leave him again.

**XXX**

_Finally_, Gaston thought as he approached the border of the Beast's castle. He was finally here.

It hadn't been an easy journey, though he wouldn't say _impossible; _nothing was too impossible for Gaston, after all! But there were times when his head hurt so goddamn much he could barely move, and other times when it felt like he was walking through a fog so dense he had no idea if he was heading East or West, or Northeast, or North-Northeast...

Sometimes he'd sit against a tree trunk and consider resting for a bit, but then he'd remember his last conversation with LeFou, and the rage he felt at his sidekick's lack of faith was enough to get him on his feet again. Head injury or not, he wasn't going to give LeFou the satisfaction of being right about not finding Belle. Gaston would rescue her, marry her, and then LeFou would be sorry, _all _the boys back in the village would be.

On the second, or maybe the third day of searching, Gaston discovered the remains of a wolf carcass beneath an oak tree, and next to that, his prized blunderbuss, now in ruins. He was devastated, as that gun had been a custom-built to order from Paris, but cheered himself up again as he imagined the look on the townsmen's faces when he brought Belle back home, safe and sound. They'd all be awed and inspired by his unwavering determination to save his wife from the Beast-man hybrid, he was certain of it.

He knew that was what the Beast really was now of course: a hybrid demon that could shift between the form of a monster and a man. Why else had Belle fallen in love with him? She'd probably been seduced by his human form from the moment she'd set foot into that castle, the poor girl. But Gaston could see right through his trickery. The Beast was a danger to the village and had to be put down, for everyone's safety. He knew Belle would be sad to be parted from her monster a second time, but that was nothing he couldn't fix. Away from the bad influence of her books and her father, he'd bring her to his rustic hunting lodge in the woods and show her how to be a _proper _woman; roasting his kills every night, massaging his feet, acquainting her with the ways of the bedroom. Sure, she'd be stubborn at first, but once she put aside these crazy, improper thoughts of hers and realized her husband had in fact saved her life, he knew she would love every aspect of their life together. They'd have their first strapping boy within a year of matrimony - the spitting image of his father of course - and then this whole mix-up with the Beast would be a thing of the past. _Or a good bedtime story to tell the kids, _he thought._ Now that sounds like the kind of book I'd want to read!_

Hiding outside the castle walls, Gaston could see that he wasn't alone. To the far right of the bushes where he'd concealed himself, a possessed pitchfork and shovel were in the middle of a heated argument over which side of the castle to patrol next. He sneered at their doltishness, then, ensuring the guards couldn't see him, sprinted towards the east side of the castle.

Getting over the castle wall was easy, but getting inside the castle, not so much. Gaston had only walked a few feet when several possessed gargoyles began shooting arrows at him from the castle roof. _Damn, _he thought as he dodged out of their way, _this Beast has sure picked a hell of a place to hide._ Fortunately, there was nearby tower that ran parallel to their line of fire he could use as cover. He quickly dashed behind it to avoid their attacks.

Now all he had to do was get inside the castle unseen, and for that, he was in luck. The tower he was hiding behind had several windows just large enough to scale. _If the Beast has sent his minions to guard the main entrances of the castle like last time, then maybe I should try climbing to one of the upper floors instead, _he thought to himself.

Pleased with his own quick decision-making, especially since he no longer had LeFou to consult with, Gaston threw off the bandages from his head and reached for the closest window.

Belle would be his soon, and he would make sure it stayed that way this time.


	21. Debt

Adam awoke late that night to a tantalizing, flowery scent and something silky brushing against his nose. _Is this my fur? _he wondered, opening his eyes.

He could barely see anything in the darkness, so instead he pulled his left arm closer to the object. His fingers brushed over what felt suspiciously like a breast and the inside of an elbow until he found what he was looking for. No, it wasn't fur, he realized. It was softer and longer than his fur had ever been, and it was not as thick. It was _hair_, human hair. He forced his hand further across the soft filaments, palm eventually making contact with an ear, then a cheek, eyebrow, nose and lips. This hair was attached to someone's head, he realized. _Belle._

Memories of the hours before came flooding back to him. He remembered how he'd come to Belle's room to reveal himself, only to find that she'd slipped off to find the Beast. He caught up to her in the West Wing, crying over the remains of the enchanted rose as she mourned for him. After fighting over the magic mirror, he'd kissed her and then she'd discovered who he was. They both admitted their feelings for one another. And _then..._well, he didn't even need a refresher on what happened next. What had started with a kiss had blossomed into a complete session of lovemaking between them, a beautiful moment where he'd let go of all the pain he'd been carrying inside himself, succumbing to pleasures he'd wanted to experience with her for months, but until recently, thought impossible.

He felt his heart begin to race with exhilaration as he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, listening to the sound of her breathing. She was so amazing, so incredible. What he'd give to spend the rest of his life falling asleep and waking up beside her just like this. But they'd only been together for one night. And considering how little Belle knew about his past, he wasn't sure they _would _be staying together after this.

Suddenly, the warm, fuzzy feeling in the prince was gone, replaced by a cold feeling of guilt. He wasn't sure he could sleep anymore. He tried to get out of bed, only to realize that his right arm was completely dead from where it had been sandwiched between Belle's head and the pillow beneath her. He fought back a groan of pain as he pushed her head up with his left hand to drag it out, then rolled over and untangled himself from the blankets. The West Wing was absolutely freezing from the draft coming through the smashed window and he had to warm himself up by walking around the bed searching for clothes, while shooting glances at Belle now and then to ensure she was still asleep.

Now that the physical part of their act was over, the mental part was slowly beginning to catch up to the prince. He had never been with a woman before tonight, but Lumiere had taken some time to educate him on the practice when he was still under the curse. He knew that making Belle his lover tonight was a very serious ordeal. For one thing, he'd taken something valuable from her she would never get back: her maidenhead. If Adam did manage to connect with his uncle again after this, only to learn he couldn't marry Belle because she was a commoner, her life was basically done for. No man outside this castle would want to take Belle for a wife knowing she was impure. Even worse, if she couldn't find a man to marry her before her father died, she might be forced to work as a courtesan to survive and it would be all Adam's fault.

As the prince slipped on his shirt, another thought came to him...he hadn't exactly been _careful_ - what if he'd accidentally impregnated her? At that, he felt his face turn warm. He knew he'd love to have a child with Belle if she asked. After tonight, he would run to the ends of the earth for her, swim across an entire ocean if she wanted. But she was still very young. His own parents were nearly twice her age when they'd had him. While he could provide Belle with money or a nursemaid to make the pregnancy easier, knowing she'd have to spend the rest of her life raising an illegitimate child because of him was just as unforgivable as forcing her into a life of captivity all over again.

At last, Adam finished dressing and sat on the bed to tie up his hair. He couldn't believe it. What had felt like a natural emotional progression between him and Belle had to be one of the biggest and most selfish mistakes he'd ever made in his life. He had to go away, go away and think about this for a bit.

"But I don't understand, Lumiere! Why on earth would they be in _there_?"

"My guess is as good as yours, Cogsworth but we've tried everywhere else. Where else could they be?"

Startled at the sound of his servants' voices, Adam turned to face the doors. The noise had awakened Belle as well and she began to stir from beneath the blankets. "Mmm?" she said as she turned to him, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "S'matter?"

"Someone's coming," Adam replied. And it made sense, he thought. He and Belle must have been gone for hours by now - more than enough time for the servants to start worrying. He hastily picked her nightgown off the floor and tossed it at her face. "Get dressed, quickly."

He dashed to the doors of the West Wing, and then thinking again, ran back to the bed to pull down the curtains so Belle could have some privacy. By the time he'd reached the doors again, Cogsworth and Lumiere were just moments away from entering the room.

"Oh, master, there you are!" Cogsworth said, looking up at the prince in relief. "You look like you've seen a ghost! What on earth happened?"

"Never mind," said Adam. "You were...uh, looking for me?"

"Yes, master," Lumiere nodded. "We have some urgent news. The hunter has breached the castle!"

"What?" said the prince. _Already?_ "I thought you sent guards to patrol all the entrances so he couldn't get in!"

"And we did, master," said Lumiere. "But he didn't come through the entrance, he came through a window. We found one of the windowpanes smashed in a study room on the eighth floor. We think he must have slipped past the guards outside and climbed up the East tower. Crane saw him lurking in the corridor leading to the castle's old apartments and alerted us straight away."

"There's another thing you should know too, Master," said Cogsworth. "Belle has gone –"

But before he could finish his sentence the sound of curtains being thrown open took everyone by surprise. Adam cringed. Apparently, Belle didn't understand that "get dressed" also meant "stay in the bed until I tell you it's safe to come out."

"Gaston's _here?" _she said as she got off the mattress, untangling her nightgown so it properly covered her legs. She started to limp again when she tried to walk, so Adam ran over to help her get to the front of the room.

"Master, what on earth were you thinking, letting Belle sleep in here?" Cogsworth said in surprise. "That ghastly draft is no good for her in her current condition!"

"I think they were more than just _sleeping _in here, Cogsworth," Lumiere replied with a grin. He was very good at identifying the signs; and luckily for the master, had been anticipating this event to occur between him and Belle for a _very _long time now.

"Wha-?" It took a moment for Cogsworth to understand Lumiere's meaning. "Oh. Oh my."

Adam laughed awkwardly as he returned to them with Belle, tucking the bottom of his shirt into his pants. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a more embarrassing situation. All he needed now was for Belle's father to walk in on them, and they could almost have a party. "Wh-where is Gaston now?" he asked, wanting to change the subject.

"When we left to find you he was heading up the main staircase, towards the library from the looks of things," Lumiere replied.

_The library? _That was only a few floors away from here. Adam had even less time to get Belle and her father out of here than he thought. "Take Belle back to her room and then get the horses ready for her and her father at the entrance by the tunnels," he told them. "They should be able to evacuate the castle safely that way."

"Wait, you're sending us _away?"_ Belle said as she turned to Adam. "But what about you and the servants?"

"Gaston's not interested in the servants," he replied. "Just me. I have to stop him."

"What?" she said in disbelief. "No, you can't do that!"

"Belle, listen to me. Gaston will stop at _nothing_ until he finds you. I just can't let that happen."

"But what if you get hurt?" They'd just been reunited, it wasn't fair! "I can't lose you, not again!"

"Everything's going to be _fine, _Belle, I promise," he said as he cupped her cheek. "I've gotten past Gaston two times now, remember?" He took her bandaged hand in his and looked her straight in the eyes. "I meant everything we did tonight. But I'm _not _going to put your freedom on the line, not again. So please, just do this for me. We don't have a lot of time."

Belle searched Adam's face, then realizing she couldn't make him change his mind, hugged him so tight, he was afraid all his bones would break at once. That flowery scent was still in her hair, and for a moment, he wondered what it _would_ be like to leave with her, how easy it would be. They could settle down in a distant village, get married and have a family together. But how well could either of them sleep every night, knowing Gaston was out there looking for them? _No,_ he thought as he pulled away from her. He had to do this. He had to, because nobody else would, because Belle's life meant too much for him _not_ to make a stand for.

"I'm sorry," he said as he pushed something heavy into her hands. He wished he could kiss her, touch her, but they'd had their time already. Instead, he backed away from her and then split from the room so fast; it was as though he were afraid of what would happen if he looked back. Belle felt a numbing sensation take hold of her as she watched her prince disappear down the corridor. She thought she'd known everything about him before tonight. But now she'd come to see something in him she'd never seen in him before: strength.

She looked down at her hands to see that he had given her the magic mirror as a final parting gift.

* * *

><p>Adam had known long before Belle's fever started breaking that he may not come out from this next confrontation with Gaston alive. He wasn't trying to be modest, but realistic. He'd been lucky enough not to be shot by Gaston back in the forest; there was no telling what the man would do for his blood now. Judging from the fact that he'd managed to get past the castle defenses undetected, Adam guessed just about anything. LeFou offered up a small chance that Gaston would change his mind, but it was only small, and Adam had no idea how well it would help him in the long run.<p>

This wasn't the first time the prince had thought about dying, however. For ten years, he'd been waiting for a chance to die. Death for him meant escape, peace, no longer being bound to the terms of his curse, or any other suffering for that matter. But now, as he went to face Gaston, he realized that death had taken on a different meaning for him. He wasn't dying because he'd given up hope, or because he knew Belle didn't love him - but because he knew, deep inside, that this was where he was meant to be, what he was meant to do.

In the months that Belle had been here, the prince had walked the paths of light and dark, coming to understand what it meant to be both good and evil. Maybe in some ways good couldn't exist without evil. Maybe humans were naturally prone to do bad things instead of good. But even the most corrupted of men could be redeemed if they chose, where there was darkness there was hope, and there were moments where one could only appreciate the indescribable difference that a selfless act of love could make in the world.

Real strength and courage, it wasn't hiding behind a hood, it was confronting your worst fears. It was putting your own life at risk, dying to protect someone you cared about. And so, Adam would redeem himself tonight of all his past mistakes by stopping Gaston from taking Belle away, even if _he_ didn't make it out alive in the process.

He hoped the servants would find a way to regain their humanity when he was gone. And for Belle, he hoped she would come to understand why he had done this, and that when she left the castle, she would continue to stand up and fight for what was rightfully hers. He didn't deny that he wished things could have ended differently for them, and maybe they would have if he'd told her at the very beginning that he loved her. That's the difficult thing about being human; when you open your heart up to someone once, it is very hard to open it up again. For now, Adam could only feel glad that he'd done something noble by ensuring Belle would be safe from Gaston. Everything else, all those what-if possibilities between them, they didn't matter now.

He'd learned long ago that desire could lead to suffering, but letting go of desire completely was to be at peace.

These were the things he thought about as he went to face Gaston for what might be the last night of his life.


	22. Blood

By the time Belle left the West Wing with Lumiere and Cogsworth, Adam was long gone. In her hands she carried the mirror he'd given her, and his cloak, which, for reasons unknown to her, he'd left behind. As silly as it was, she wanted to hold on to it; it still smelled a bit like him when she held it close.

"Lumiere?" Cogsworth said when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Seeing as we've found Belle and the master, perhaps it may be a good idea for me to alert the others to the intruder? We'll want to have as many staff on board as possible in case he appears in their vicinity. I can tell the stable boys to get the horses ready as well while I'm down there."

"Of course, _mon ami_," Lumiere replied. "You go on and tell the others. I will take Belle back to her room."

Cogsworth nodded and hurried to the kitchens, leaving Belle and the maitre d' alone in the hallway.

"I can find my way back myself," Belle said in embarrassment. She wanted the household to be safe just as much as Cogsworth did, and didn't mean to be a nuisance on both their parts.

"Oh, that is quite all right, mademoiselle," Lumiere replied as they walked down the hall. "You are a wanted lady, after all. It would be unwise to let you return to your room without an escort."

"I'm sorry that I ran off earlier," Belle continued nervously. "I didn't mean to worry everyone."

"Ah, _c'est rien," _Lumiere replied. "An inquisitive woman like yourself, this isn't the first time you've slipped off somewhere without us knowing. You didn't know what was going on. And all things considered...perhaps it was best that both you and the master took some time to...well..." He lowered his head in embarrassment. "Let's just say _I understand. _And I want you to know that you can always go to Mrs. Potts or Babette if there's anything you want to talk about, concerning...tonight," he finished tactfully. "Anything at all."

"Thank you, Lumiere," Belle said, blushing slightly at the insinuation. "But I really am _fine. _I promise."

She'd only said it once and already she had a feeling she was going to be repeating it several times tonight. If she was completely honest with herself, she wasn't even sure what she was going to say to her father when he found out where she'd gone. She bit her lip nervously. "How long have you all been like this, exactly?"

"Over ten years, chérie. Why, he told you the truth about us, did he?"

"He told me that he was a prince once and had to earn my love to change you back to your human forms. What I don't understand is _how_ he became cursed to begin with."

"It was a very long time ago, mademoiselle. I suppose you can say, all things considered, that the master didn't exactly have the happiest of childhoods," Lumiere replied. "His parents – the prince and princess – were very dedicated to looking after the province. Every year they would go on a journey to evaluate the state of the province's estates and farms, leaving the master in our care for weeks, even months at a time. I do believe he knew more about us than they ever knew of them. When the master was eight years old, his parents died of smallpox, leaving his uncle to take over the throne. The master's uncle did not care for children, and, against our better wishes, decided to leave the master in this hunting estate until he reached an appropriate age to start managing the kingdom on his own. The master began to suspect that his uncle had abandoned him, and he became very hurt and bitter. We tried to tell him to focus on his studies, but he no longer had any motivation to learn, and became increasingly difficult to reach out to, given the authority he had over us. On Christmas Eve, less than four months short of the master's twelfth birthday, an old beggar woman came to the castle gates asking the master for shelter. When he refused, she revealed to him that she was an enchantress and turned him into a Beast for having no love in his heart. She told him that in order to be human again, he would have to love another and earn their love before his twenty-first year. It was almost ten years before you came to the castle to find your father, so naturally, we came to believe that _you _were the one who was meant to break the spell over the master."

Belle reflected on Lumiere's story with both anger and pity. From the sound of it, the prince had had no parental figures for most of his childhood. His mother and father were too busy for him, and his uncle, instead of raising him after their deaths, had dumped him in this castle and neglected him completely. It was no wonder the enchantress had seen he had no love in his heart that Christmas Eve. He had had no one to _show_ him love to begin with. Of course, that didn't make his behaviour that Christmas any more excusable to Belle, but it did open her eyes to the man the prince might have become if the enchantress hadn't intervened. It would also explain why he hated the idea of celebrating the holiday – it occurred at the exact same time as his curse. "What happened to him...after I left that night?" she asked Lumiere next.

"Ah, that is a mystery only the master knows the answer to, mademoiselle. All he told us was that the enchantress came to him after the hunter stormed the castle, telling him she had decided to break the spell over him because it wasn't his time to die yet. I assumed that by reversing his transformation she was giving him another chance to win your love, but the two of you have already...uh...consummated_,_ and we still remain the same way," he sighed. "I suppose we were never meant to understand the way that enchanters think. Perhaps she meant for us to remain enchanted objects forever."

"Oh no, don't say such a thing!" said Belle. "If the enchantress made the Beast human again, I'm sure she meant for a way to make you all human, too." It was what she wanted to believe; but she had no evidence to support her claim. She didn't understand. In all the fairy tales she'd read growing up, true love's kiss was the answer to anything involving a magic spell. She and Adam had kissed several times tonight – and in several places, she might add – so, logically speaking, the spell _should_ be broken by now. Maybe they had to do something else. Did Adam, going off to fight Gaston, know what it was?

* * *

><p>It occurred to Adam as he made his way to the library that he might need some kind of weapon to defend himself against Gaston. Upon passing the fifth floor, he noticed a suit of armour holding a sword and paused.<p>

Not many of the servants remembered that the prince used to take fencing lessons before he'd become a beast. His father was a skilled fencer, and next to horseback riding, fencing was an activity Adam used to practice regularly, hoping he'd be able to spar with his father when he returned from one of his trips. That had been before his parents had fallen ill, however, and shortly after, his uncle had sent him to live in this castle with only a select number of tutors; his old fencing teacher not included.

Now, as the prince studied the weapon, he began to wonder if a sword might be advantageous against Gaston. He hadn't done any fencing in over ten years, but he supposed that _any _kind of defensive strategy was better than nothing.

"Do you mind if I borrow this?" he asked the suit of armour. The suit nodded and allowed the prince to pry the weapon from his gauntlets. Adam held it up to see that it was a Renaissance long sword, about forty inches in length with a gem studded hilt and a diamond cross section. It was also a lot _heavier_ than his old fencing stick. _But if Gaston's unarmed, I should only need to use this to threaten him with, _he thought,_ I don't actually need to _fight_ him._

Raindrops pattered against the windowpanes as Adam continued to make his way to the library. He was beginning to worry that Belle and her father would be caught in this storm when he heard LeFou shouting from behind the corner.

"Gaston, wait! You don't understand! It's not what you think."

"And why should I believe you?" Gaston snapped back angrily. "First you let him get away with Belle, now you've come to _his_ castle, practically _agreeing _to work here as his servant? And to think I used to let you have free beers at _my t_avern every night!"

"No, Gaston, please, listen to me!" LeFou cried. But his pleas were only answered by a hard punch to the face. The impact sent him flying across the hallway, and straight into Adam's leg. At the sight of his nemesis, Gaston smiled.

"Ah, there you are. The infamous Beast-man. So, tell me, which form will I be facing you in today?"

"Figured it out, have you?" Adam replied as LeFou picked himself off the floor and scurried away. Of course, the prince already knew that Gaston had made the connection between his two forms, but he needed some way to buy Belle and her father time so they could get of the castle out safely.

"Nobody hides secrets from Gaston," Gaston replied. "Now, if you'd kindly hand over my _wife, _I'll make sure that none of your charming castle objects get hurt."

"I've sent Belle away to somewhere where you can't find her. And if you want to go after her, you'll have to go through me first," Adam said as he raised his sword.

Whatever he expected Gaston to make of this threat, it certainly wasn't for his smile to grow even bigger than it had been a moment ago. "Have it your way," he replied. He walked over to the side of the hall and picked up a large dane axe off the floor. Adam mentally kicked himself. He'd forgotten to ask the servants to lock up the armoury on the floor above them.

* * *

><p>Once Belle returned to her room, she went to the bathroom to clean herself with some wet towels. Outside, Lumiere told Madame de la Grande Bouche and Mrs. Potts about where he'd found her, as well as the orders the master had given him to help her and Maurice escape the castle.<p>

"Anything you need, dear?" Madame de la Grande Bouche said once Belle returned from the bathroom. While her voice was sympathetic, Belle was unable to look at her in the eyes properly. There was a reason she'd gone to wash herself first – she was uncomfortable hearing Lumiere's account of what she and Adam had done together.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly. "Is my father awake?"

"Yes, love," Mrs. Potts nodded. "Lumiere's gone to help him get ready. Your disappearance created quite a racket amongst the servants. He couldn't sleep once he heard you were missing."

Belle lowered her head in shame at this news. She'd already worried her father sick by leaving him at the tavern without an explanation. Now she'd run off again within a day of recovering from a fever. There was no telling what sort of things must have gone through his head. He may have thought that Gaston had broken into the castle and kidnapped her, all things considered. Belle had got the whole castle riled up for absolutely no reason, except to find someone who had been here with her all along. "Is Lumiere going to tell him what happened?" she asked, wanting to say something to hide her embarrassment.

"He'll tell him where he found you, but you'll have to explain the rest to him," the wardrobe replied. "We assumed that was what you wanted."

"It is. Thank you."

"Do _you _want to talk about anything, love?" Mrs. Potts continued, looking at Belle in concern. Belle was like a daughter to her, and the last thing she wanted was for her to feel like she had to hide these feelings from everyone like a murderer responsible for a hefty crime. Her thoughts on Belle and the master consummating their feelings were very much aligned with Lumiere's, and she was sure that independent, intelligent Belle wouldn't consent to this kind of activity without thinking carefully about it first.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Potts's words only caused Belle to blush even redder than before. "Oh-oh, no," she said, forcing herself to look out the window. "It just..._happened._ I spent so many weeks thinking he was dead, with no one to talk to about how I was feeling. Then I found out he was alive and he'd been hiding himself from me...I was overwhelmed. He held my hand and started talking to me and we started kissing and I..."

"You realized you had a connection with him and wanted to deepen it after being separated for so long," said Mrs. Potts.

"Yes," Belle replied. But even though these words were true, it still seemed so much more complicated than that. She didn't understand. For most of her adolescence, everyone had remarked on how stoic she was. When she'd first been a prisoner to the Beast, her memory of her father made her want to stay strong for him, even though she could hardly imagine the castle as a home at the time. When she'd travelled on the road with Adam and her father, she'd been careful to conceal her grief for the Beast, not wanting her emotions to stop her from getting her and her father to safety. But something had happened tonight – whether it was the result of the dreams, the fever, of the laudanum, Belle didn't know – but her emotions had teemed out and grown until it would be criminal to deny herself the chance to take part in something so beautiful. Did that make what she did tonight wrong? Everything she'd learned growing up told her it was, but her heart told her it wasn't. And for this, she felt conflicted.

"Oh, hon," said Madame. "Being separated from someone, especially someone we haven't seen in a long time can sometimes bring out emotions we didn't even know were inside of us. As long as what you two did was out of love, then you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Belle wanted to tell Mrs. Potts and her wardrobe that it wasn't fair that sleeping with Adam could break down the misunderstandings between them, but not stop Gaston from coming after them. She wanted to tell them that she was worried she and Adam had accidentally conceived a child tonight, and that she wouldn't have a father to help raise him when he was born. But she bit her tongue and nodded instead. This was something she and Adam had decided to do, and decided to do together. She didn't want Mrs. Potts and Madame to feel bad about something they did not have any responsibility over.

After this discussion, Madame helped Belle out of her nightgown and into a clean chemise and blouse. Even though Belle had worn these undergarments countless times during her stay at the castle, they now felt unnaturally constricting against her body. She realized, almost heart-wrenchingly, that without her silky nightgown, the memories of tonight felt much more like a dream than reality. Once she'd finished putting on all her underclothes, she walked over to the bed where Madame de la Grande Bouche had laid out her old blue pinafore dress. She lifted it up and frowned at the brown stain underneath the dress's right armpit.

"We tried to clean the blood off best we could, hon, but as you can see there's still a bit of a stain," the Madame explained as she placed the magic mirror into a carpetbag with some extra clothes for Belle to take on the road. "I hope that's all right. You might still be able to get it out if you rinse it with some cold saltwater. Of course, I can't make any promises. It was already stained pretty badly when the master brought you in here."

Belle said nothing in reply. All she could think about was those blue eyes she'd seen in the forest before she'd fainted. The servants hadn't been lying to her after all when they said that Adam had fended off those wolves. Adam – her Beast – had saved her life that night. She might have lost a lot more blood if he hadn't found her in time.

She continued to linger on this revelation as she walked over to the mirror to tie up her hair. On the vanity, next to her hairbrush, someone had left her a vase of white tulips. She stared at them curiously.

"Where did these come from?" she asked Madame.

"Oh, those? The master left them here for you. I put them in some water while you were gone...figured they'd last longer that way."

"The master came _here?" _Belle said in surprise.

"Huh? Oh, well, of course. That was the plan originally. We were told we could only explain to you how you got here, but he was going to explain everything else to you. He was going to talk to you, earlier this evening in fact, but that was after you disappeared."

Belle couldn't believe it. Adam had planned to see her after all! He'd come here to apologize - for lying to her, for doubting her, for loving her all this time and not having enough courage to tell her the truth. When he'd seen her mourning for him in the West Wing, he'd taken her in his arms and revealed himself, filling those empty holes in her body with light. Maybe what he'd did with her tonight was his own way of apologizing, saying he was here for her now and wasn't going to hurt her anymore. Maybe in giving himself to her, he too had come to realize that he'd been hurting himself, that only in silencing his mind could he finally hear what his heart had been telling him all along.

But Belle would never know what Adam was thinking, because he had left to fight Gaston for her. He was paying for Gaston's crimes with his blood, so that she could be free.

Oh, where was that Belle who'd ridden out into a storm three weeks ago to warn the Beast about the mob? That barrier she had built around herself when they'd parted ways in the West Wing was already starting to fall apart. She felt like she would burst from the pain swelling in her chest.

"Hon, what are you doing?" Madame exclaimed suddenly as Belle grabbed the carpetbag.

"I'm sorry, Madame. I can't let him do this," she replied shakily. "He's going to get himself _killed_ because of me!" She reached into the bag and dug frantically through the clothes until her hand found the cold handle of the magic mirror. "Show me the Be-the prince!" she demanded.

* * *

><p>"Getting tired, are you?"<p>

A bead of sweat trickled down Adam's forehead as he dodged another blow from Gaston's axe. He didn't want to admit he'd been outsmarted, but he'd been outsmarted. He'd only been taught how to block attacks from another fencer; he had no idea how to fight offensively against a heavy weapon. Just when he thought he was close enough to attack Gaston, the hunter would swing the blade towards his head and he'd have to dodge or jump backwards to save himself from being decapitated by him. After years of being an animal, Adam realized he was more adept at fighting hand-to-hand than with a weapon.

As the prince tried once more to swing his sword at Gaston, Gaston blocked the attack with his axe before thrusting the handle upwards and rotating it around Adam's blade. Adam didn't even have time to react before Gaston hit him in the chin with the heel of the weapon, sending him lying flat on the carpet. The prince only had a second to register the blade of the axe shimmering towards him before he rolled out of the way, dropping his sword in the process. As Gaston struggled to pull his heavy axe out of the floor, Adam got to his feet and darted into the nearest room off the hallway. He had just enough time to secure the door behind him before Gaston drove his weapon though it, sending pieces of wood flying over his shoulders.

"Here's Gaston!" he shouted as he kicked open the door and stepped through the threshold. The room had no windows to see light by, but the conspicuous sound of paper rustling was enough to tell him where Adam was hiding: underneath the desk at the side of the room. He laughed as he stepped forward, dragging Adam's discarded sword along with him.

"It doesn't have to come to this, Adam. Don't you see? If you meddle with destiny, you meddle with the universe. Belle was meant to be mine – why can't you just accept that already?"

"You think that _destiny _gives you a reason to hurt people?" Adam snapped back as he watched Gaston's boots stop in front of the desk. "You put Belle and her father under house arrest. You were going to _kill _Maurice because Belle wouldn't agree to marry you!"

"I would never kill Maurice. Belle just needed a little _persuasion, _that's all," Gaston replied calmly. "I couldn't have her going around telling people that there was a 'kind and gentle' Beast living in a castle. People would think she was crazy! She needed time to remember her place, come back to her senses. She was almost on the right track, but that was before you came and ruined everything."

"Belle only agreed to marry you because you left her with no choice," Adam retorted. "She hurt your pride, so you wouldn't leave her alone until she became yours and yours alone. That's not marriage, that's slavery! And that's why I took her away from the village – so she would be safe from you and free to make her own decisions about her future."

Gaston laughed. "How do _you_ know what Belle wants for her future?" he challenged. "She's a _woman! _Do you honestly think she'd be able to survive out there speaking gibberish about those books she reads all the time, neglecting her duties to her husband and children? I planned to marry her to correct all of that. I would be the perfect husband who would show her how to be the _perfect _wife. We were meant for each other, only _you _can't seem to see that."

"Of course I don't!" said Adam. "A good husband would accept Belle for who she is, not punish her for thinking differently from him."

"Well that's where I have to disagree," said Gaston. "A husband's job is to show his wife her proper place so disaster doesn't spread in the world. I've tried to convince you, tried to make you see reason, but now you're just annoying me. So it seems we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way."

With these words, Gaston stepped forward and stabbed Adam's sword into the surface of the desk. The furniture was made from a thick wood however, leaving the blade a few inches short from harming the prince. Gaston found himself struggling to pull the weapon out from the desk again as Adam crawled out from under the table and ran through the door across from him. Realizing he wouldn't be able to get the sword out and chase Adam at the same time, Gaston yanked his hunting knife out from his boot and followed him out through the hallway instead.

Adam could hear the blood pounding loudly through his ears as he ran down the hall away from Gaston. _What do I do? _he thought in a panic. He was all out of ideas and weapons. He had no idea where the servants were so they could help him. He was so agitated that he nearly fell down a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway, regaining his balance in time to see a landing with a large window beneath him. He spun around to see that Gaston had caught up to him, grinning devilishly as he flipped his hunting knife around in his left hand.

"Dead end is it?" he laughed. He stepped towards Adam and forced an aggressive jab towards the prince's abdomen. Adam anticipated this move, however, and responded by grabbing Gaston's left wrist with his right hand. He pulled the hunter towards him and then pushed on the back of his neck with his left hand to send him stumbling down the stairs.

Enraged that he'd been outwitted, Gaston scrambled back up to the landing and tried to shove his knife towards Adam's face. But the prince deflected his move by pushing Gaston's arm back with his left forearm and then grabbing on to both his shoulders, as though holding him in an embrace. Gaston tried to throw Adam off him, but lost his balance in the process. The next moment, both men went crashing through the window and onto the hard pavement of the balcony a floor below them. While neither of them were seriously injured, the impact left both of them winded. Adam lay motionless amongst the broken glass for a few moments, wincing from the sore pain in his back and the icy rain pouring on his face. He only came to his senses again as when heard Gaston walking towards him. He got to his feet, only to feel a hard stinging sensation as the hunter slapped him in the cheek. Gaston then tried to use the moment Adam was dazed to slip around him and slit his throat from behind, but the prince countered his attack by pushing back his arm and biting him hard on the wrist. Gaston let out a grunt of pain and Adam used the moment he was distracted to elbow himself free, but only for a moment.

As soon as Gaston had recovered from his injury, he jumped at Adam and pinned him straight on the ground. He lowered his knife towards his chest as the prince grabbed Gaston's wrist with both hands, trying desperately to push him away. Normally such a move would cause little resistance for the burly hunter, but having not eaten his diet of four dozen eggs for two weeks, it soon began to put a strain on him. He knelt beside Adam and bent his body closer to him to try lower the knife closer towards his chest. Unfortunately for Gaston, this shift in weight was exactly what the prince needed. He lifted up his right knee up and shoved Gaston hard in the stomach, then pushed his humongous body off him, sending the knife flying free from his hands.

Rain crashed down like hard pebbles against the concrete as Adam got to his feet. He picked up Gaston's discarded knife and pressed it against the hunter's neck. Gaston looked up at him, grinning, and sneered, "You haven't got the stomach."

The taunting words sent a rage coursing through Adam's body unlike anything he'd felt in a long time. He pressed the blade harder against the skin of Gaston's throat, not stopping until he began to draw blood. It took several seconds for Gaston to realize that Adam was, in fact, serious about killing him. The hunter's eyes grew wide with terror.

"All right, I'm sorry! I take it back! You win! Please, don't hurt me! I'll do anything! _Anything!"_ he cried.

For a moment, Adam could barely hear the hunter's pathetic pleas. All he could think about was how easy it would be to kill him. He'd hurt Belle and her father – he _deserved _to die. It was his eyes that stopped him. Blue eyes, so eerily similar to his own. And in that moment Adam remembered that despite all the twisted things he'd done, Gaston was only a man. A man, who just like Adam, had chosen pride over morality, letting it shape him into something monstrous and evil. Adam hated him, he had absolutely no sympathy for him, yet, he knew he wouldn't be able to kill him without acknowledging that they were the same once. "You will never hurt Belle again," he told him firmly. "You'll go back to your village, find someone else to marry. She's out of the picture."

"Of - of course," Gaston stammered. "She's all yours! I mean, who needs brunettes anyway? They're a dime a dozen! Now _redheads _on the other hand…"

Adam rolled his eyes in disgust and moved away. "Get out. I don't want to see your face here ever again. And if I do," he held up the knife. "Next time you won't be so lucky."

"Gaston!" a voice shouted suddenly.

"Belle?" Adam turned around to see her limping out to the balcony in her blue pinafore dress, magic mirror in hand. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Belle didn't answer, but continued to focus on Gaston as though she hadn't heard Adam's question. "Gaston. I'll marry you," she said clearly. "I'll be the wife you want me to be. Just leave him alone."

"WHAT?!" Adam exclaimed in disbelief. Forgetting about Gaston, he stood up and ran towards her. "Belle, what are you talking about? You can't marry him!"

He tried to get her to meet his eyes, but she kept her gaze focused on the floor. She was afraid she'd start breaking into tears if she looked up at him.

"You said it yourself," she said quietly. "Gaston will stop at _nothing_ until he finds me. Don't you understand? I'm the reason he left the village. You can keep fighting him, but in the end, he won't give up unless I give him what he wants."

"We're _not _fighting anymore, Belle," Adam corrected. "Didn't you hear? Gaston's surrendered already. He's leaving! You don't have to give yourself up for me, we've won! Come here."

He took her in her arms, wanting to comfort her, and Belle, against her better judgment, lay her head against his chest. She knew, despite his encouraging words, that this fight would only be over when she pledged herself to Gaston, forever. As long as Gaston knew the Beast was still alive, he would continue to pursue him, continue to fight him until he was dead. She just couldn't put his life at risk, not again. She pressed her nose against his shirt, wanting to memorize every detail about his smell and his heartbeat. She hoped that no matter what happened, he would know that she would always love him and only him.

Neither of them noticed Gaston moving towards them until it was too late. Of course, he had no intention of accepting Belle's deal. Adam had humiliated him, practically sent him away with his tail between his legs, and for that he would make the prince pay dearly. Belle was exactly where he wanted her. All he had to do was eliminate the last predator and she'd be his forever.

Adam didn't feel any pain at first. Just a cold shock, like an icy hand had slipped into his chest and back out again. It wasn't until Belle started screaming Gaston's name and he looked down to see the dark red stain spreading across on his white shirt that he'd realized he'd been stabbed. That slippery bastard. Gaston had been hiding a second knife in his boot the entire time!

The last thing Adam saw before he hit the ground was Belle's brown eyes, wide with terror. The shock in his body subsided, turning into a throbbing, then burning pain.


	23. Green

In all his twenty-four years of life, Gaston could never remember a time when he'd been wrong about anything. When he was thirteen years old and lost in a fistfight to the village blacksmith's son Francois, he'd been perfectly justified in his reasons to challenge him to a rematch – his reputation was at stake and the only way to win it back was by beating him. So, in his mind, Gaston's motives for stabbing the prince in the back were perfectly acceptable. Adam had humiliated him in front of his fellow townsmen. He'd taken away the wife that rightfully belonged to Gaston. And more than that, he was a hybrid demon who would drag his wife down to hell if Gaston didn't come and rescue her from his unholy influence. To Gaston, Adam was his enemy, and it was his job to finish him off and prove that he always came up on top, no matter what.

But as soon as Gaston drove his hunting knife into Adam's back, something _did not_ feel right. Before he could figure out what it was however, Belle stepped in front of him, screaming something loud and indecipherable before kneeing him straight in the groin. Gaston immediately dropped his knife and doubled over in pain as Belle stumbled backwards, the abrupt kicking motion putting too much exertion on her still-healing ankle.

Thankfully, the hunter was saved from any further attacks from his fiancée as Adam weakly called her name. Belle turned to make sure that Gaston was too incapacitated to come after her and then crawled over to the prince. She found him lying on his side, trying to conceal the gaping wound in his chest, but already the blood was trickling through his fingers, turning into inky red flowers on the wet concrete. She quickly helped him onto his back as Gaston propped himself against the balustrade to steady his shaking legs.

"You're going to be all right," she said reassuringly as she pushed Adam's hand off his chest to roll up his shirt.

"No, Belle," Adam replied, shoving her hand away. "Get-get out of here. Before he takes you!"

"I won't leave you!" she shouted back. "Oh, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have left you to deal with Gaston on your own. We should have planned something, worked out a solution together."

"I...couldn't involve you in something like this, Belle," he replied with a cough. "You...suffered so much because of me. I didn't want you...to suffer anymore."

"And I didn't want you to be alone," It was so short a sentence, but with so much sentiment behind it she was afraid her heart would burst if she said it all at once.

But the prince understood Belle's words, just as he'd come to understand the meaning of her smiles and frowns in the past six months. Even when he'd just been "Adam", he'd still been looking out for her, wishing he could comfort her when she looked most alone. Now he would be the one to say goodbye, even though he didn't expect her to say anything in return. "I wasn't alone," he said with a smile as he lifted his hand to her cheek. "Never was. Just didn't believe it before...tonight."

Belle gazed into Adam's eyes for what felt like ages, and then, because her throat hurt too much to speak anymore, nuzzled her cheek against his hand. She promised herself she wouldn't cry in front of him, but his words had become the tipping rock on the unsteady tower of emotions building inside of her since she woke up. She closed her eyes and let the first of several tears fall down her face.

As Gaston watched Adam bleeding to death on the floor, that feeling of _wrongness_ grew stronger within him. He had killed countless animals in the woods before tonight: big animals, small animals, animals that went out with a small cry of terror and others that died slowly, their struggles to survive growing feebler as the energy left their bodies. But there was something _different_ and almost unnatural about watching Adam die, coughing up copious amounts of blood, his breaths growing shallower and shallower as his body shuddered and contorted with pain. It was a sight that almost made Gaston want to vomit - and the pain in his lower body certainly wasn't helping. The only thing he could commend Adam on was how bravely he held himself up for Belle, even though he should be begging to be put out of misery at this point.

After a minute, Adam's eyes rolled into his head, and with a heavy sigh, he lay motionless against the concrete. He was gone.

Gaston expected to feel a surge of triumph at the death of his enemy, but he didn't. He just felt empty, cheated. There were no cries of victory, no fellow villagers to cheer his success. All there was was an ugly mess of blood on the floor, and a man – not a Beast, not an animal – lying dead on the balcony. Fighting and winning had been fun a moment ago, but it didn't feel like a game now, just a hollow victory. And as Belle clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, a realization dawned on Gaston that he had never considered when he was busy fighting Adam: now that he'd killed him, there was no way Belle would ever love Gaston or forgive him for what he'd done.

Belle stared down at Adam, unwilling to believe that he was gone. He had passed on like a young star that had burned out too bright and too fast. She cried out to him, grabbing the front of his shirt, pleading with him to come back, but just like that night three weeks earlier, he couldn't hear her anymore.

All she wanted to tell him was that he hadn't had to confront Gaston alone. That she wanted to share his burdens, if not sever them from him completely. Maybe marrying Gaston would have put her promise to help him break the spell on hold for a while, but between letting Adam live or die under the hands of Gaston, what else could she do to save him?

But either way, she had failed him. Adam was gone, leaving her with an emptiness she'd be carrying for the rest of her life, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. She sobbed loudly as she lay her head against his chest, wondering how someone with whom she had shared such an unforgettable night could now be a piece of lifeless matter in the pouring rain.

Only one thing was clear to her: Gaston would pay for this. Already her mind was reeling with images, images of strangling him in his bed sheets, putting rat poison in his food. She would make every minute of their life together as husband and wife as miserable as possible. _If there's_ _even_ _going to be a wedding,_ she corrected herself. There was no need to marry Gaston, now that he'd killed Adam.

Gaston's knife was less than a foot away from her. She snatched it up off the floor and rose to her feet, pointing it at him menacingly. "You," she growled.

The hunter scrambled backwards as Belle advanced on him. "Now, Belle. Let's just talk about this for a moment –,"

But before Belle could open her mouth to object, a blinding light obstructed her vision. For an instant, she thought that she'd been struck by lightning. But lightning only lasted for a second or two. This was a long, warm, golden light that had no sound. Less than a minute later, it cleared away. Belle blinked back the purple spots around her eyes to see a woman, a beautiful woman with flowing blonde hair, hovering between her and Gaston.

"My goodness," the enchantress said as she brushed some lint off of her green dress. "What a mess! I leave my mirror alone for ten minutes to play mahjong with Aristide, and when I look back again, I feel like I just missed the great flooding of Atlantis City. _Ti katastrofí!_"

"You!" Gaston said in surprise. "You're that woman! The one who I talked to back at the cottage."

"Ah, you remember me, do you?" she replied, smiling. "Good." She dropped herself gracefully onto the balcony and then slapped Gaston squarely in the face. Gaston stumbled backwards in shock. Even Belle, who just a minute ago had wanted nothing more than to see Gaston pay for what he'd done to Adam, felt a little startled by the strange woman's actions. Was it really possible that this was the same enchantress who had cursed Adam all those years ago?

"Ow!" Gaston said as he clutched his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For murdering my subject, of course," the enchantress replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Monsieur Légume. The prince spared your life, and you stabbed him in the back because he was getting in the way of the young lady you wanted to marry? I knew you to be a pretentious rooster from our interview back at the cottage, but this? Unbelievable! Why I ought to scrap my original plans for you and punish you the same way I punished the prince!"

"P-prince?" Gaston stammered. "What prince?"

"Why, the prince you just left to bleed to death on the floor, of course!" she snapped. "Over ten years he was nothing more than a spoiled and ignorant little boy, so I turned him into a Beast with the condition that he could only be human again when he learned to love another. My spell was meant to teach him a lesson in kindness and to look past outward appearances. A lesson, it seems, I will have to teach you as well."

With these words, a trail of green sparks protruded from the enchantress's wand. Gaston, who was still very confused, had the uneasy impression that he'd just provoked a bear out of hibernation and took a step back. _This has to be some kind of joke!_ he thought. _This lady's not really going to turn me into a beast...is she?_

"But wait a minute!" he said defensively. "I didn't _know_ he was a prince. It was an accident!"

"It's too late for your excuses, hunter," the enchantress replied. "The mirror has shown me everything. You are nothing but an egotistical narcissist with no true sense of love or compassion except where it concerns you. However, I _might_ agree to annul your punishment...if..."

"If what?" Gaston asked. Anything to avoid being turned into a Beast!

"If you agree to go on a mission for me."

"A mission?" He turned the idea over in his mind. "Well, no one goes on missions like Gaston! Lay it on me."

The enchantress obliged. She waved her wand and conjured a large bubble in the air. The inside of the bubble rippled away to reveal a static image of a young woman looking pensively out of a stone tower. She wore a simple green dress accented by gold trimmings, a braid of long red hair that cascaded down her back and a small tiara on her head as though she belonged to some sort of foreign nobility.

"This fair princess has been locked in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon for over twenty years, awaiting a man so bold as to rescue her," she explained to Gaston. "Many brave men from lands far and wide have attempted to free her, but so far, none have prevailed. If you do not wish to be turned into a Beast, you must go forth and rescue this princess from her prison. You will have to endure blistering heat, scorching desert, slay the dragon, and climb to the highest room of the tallest tower in order to break the spell over her. Once you have done so, the princess will be eternally in your debt, and I will return you to your world cleared of all your past offences."

Gaston carefully studied the image of the princess the enchantress had conjured. She certainly was a looker, with soft blue eyes, long eyelashes, thin arched eyebrows, delicate symmetrical facial figures and a much larger bust size than Belle's. Perfect wife material in his eyes. "All have to do is rescue this princess, and you won't curse me?" he asked.

"As long as you are successful in breaking her spell, then yes," the enchantress nodded. "But again, this is only an alternative to your punishment. If the princess is not of interest of you, then I will have no qualms whatsoever in turning you into a Beast. And before you make your decision, let me remind you that you will not have the luxury of hiding out in a castle as the prince did when he was cursed. Many hunters would love to have a head like yours mounted on their wall, should they discover you in their woods."

Gaston gulped. Between becoming a prey for a bunch of amateur hunters, or going off to rescue a princess from a distant land, rescuing the princess was the obvious choice. _And besides, _he thought_, next to Belle, marrying this princess would be like trading a draft horse for a pedigree. This lady is practically offering you a steal, Gaston! _"Of _course_ I'm interested in her," he proclaimed. He smiled as he looked back at the princess in the bubble, so taken by her beauty that it didn't even occur to him to ask what kind of "spell" she was under that needed to be broken. "No one rescues princesses like Gaston!"

"Is that your final decision?"

"Yes, it is!"

"Very well then, hunter. You may step through the bubble and begin your journey." The enchantress waved her wand again, and the magical bubble expanded, this time to show an impressionistic image of a field of sunflowers at sunset. Gaston took a few steps towards the picture before he realized he'd forgotten something and stopped.

"Wait a minute," he said, turning around. "What about LeFou?" Now that the enchantress had told him the whole story about the Beast, he no longer blamed LeFou for trying to stop him from killing Adam. In fact, given that Adam had turned out to be a prince with a powerful enchantress on his side, Gaston realized it might have been better off if he'd followed his lackey's advice. Besides, he was about to go off on an adventure, and what was adventure without LeFou? Going without him would be like going without his right arm.

"LeFou?" the enchantress repeated. "Ah, your little partner. Yes." She snapped her fingers and LeFou materialized in a puff of smoke, landing bottom-first on the balcony with a loud thud.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, eyes darting rapidly over the abrupt change in scenery. "What's going on?"

"Monsieur LeFou, your partner Gaston has agreed to go on a mission to rescue a princess from a distant land and requires your assistance," said the enchantress. "He wishes for you to join him."

"Me?" LeFou blinked in disbelief.

"Someone will need to carry the princess's things when I rescue her, LeFou," said Gaston. "Now hurry up!"

LeFou looked from Gaston, to the enchantress, to Belle and the prince, at a complete loss for words. "But-but what about Prince Adam?" he stuttered. He'd been watching Gaston's fight with the prince from the window - at least what he could stomach - and hoped this was a bad dream. Gaston wouldn't really sneak up on the prince and stab him in the back like that, would he?

"He'll be fine," Gaston said in response to LeFou's question. "Don't worry about it. The lady knows magic. She can bring him back. Right?"

The enchantress gave Gaston a wry smile but said nothing.

"You see?" he turned back to LeFou. "Nothing to worry about. Now are you coming or not?"

LeFou stood up off the floor, still conflicted. For the second time in a week, he wanted to refuse to go along with Gaston. Considering he had just killed a man in cold blood, LeFou had good reason to be mistrustful of him. The disturbing things Gaston had said in the woods only strengthened the feeling that he wasn't the same guy he thought he thought he was over a month ago. But on the other hand, Gaston was his pal! And he was actually asking LeFou for his help - actually acknowledging that he _needed_ him, instead of shoving him around and treating him like a walking coat rack.

If there was anything LeFou had learned from the short time he'd spent living in Prince Adam's castle, it was that everyone made mistakes. The line didn't magically end at Gaston, no matter how strong and manly he was. But people could_ learn_ from their mistakes too, just like Adam had when he'd met Belle. Maybe LeFou would look like a traitor by regrouping with Gaston, but at the same time, he'd be helping him by ensuring that Gaston wouldn't make the same mistakes again when he rescued the princess. He'd be like Gaston's personal helper, a good guy instead of a lousy pushover! That wasn't a bad thing, was it?

"All right, I'm coming," he decided.

Gaston grinned. "Now you're talking. Now hurry up! This princess isn't going to rescue herself, you know!"

With that, he stepped through the portal. LeFou glanced back at Belle and gave her a shy wave goodbye before he followed him. His last thought before being engulfed by the bubble's bright light was hope that this journey would be more productive and less demanding than the last one.

"He's gone," Belle said once Gaston and LeFou had disappeared into the bubble. A breath she didn't know she'd been holding released itself. She was finally free...but Adam was still dead.

As she looked sadly down at his body again, Diotima knelt down in front of Belle, rubbing her hands together like she was trying to warm herself.

"I am truly sorry," she said to her remorsefully. "This was not supposed to happen." She passed a hand over Adam's face, leaving a tiny imprint of a green rose on his temple before it dissolved into his skin. "Rest assured, there is far more to that princess than meets the eye. While she may look like a fair flower at first glance, she turns into an ogress every sunset - and will continue to do so her spell is broken by true love's kiss. The hunter will have to learn to look past appearances to break her curse – and if he _doesn't, _I will turn him into a beast anyway, and let the princess go free to join an ogre rebellion. Does that sound like a fair punishment to you, my dear?"

"I think so," Belle replied. "Um, if I may ask, _who are you,_ exactly?"

"Oh, of course," said the enchantress. "How rude of me! I am Diotima. Diotima of Mantinea."

"Diotima?" Belle repeated as she accepted the woman's hand to shake.

"For a young lady so well-versed in prose, you have not read a great deal of classical philosophy, have you?"

Belle shook her head.

"Then allow me to explain. Over two thousand years ago, when I was known as 'the priestess', I taught a man by the name of Socrates that love was defined as a mediator between the mortal and the divine, and a desire to possess beauty, goodness, and happiness and to procreate," she said. "Since that time, I have travelled lands far and wide in order to use my studies to help humans find the path of goodness."

"You help humans? So you're like...an angel?" Belle asked curiously. If Diotima was an angel, perhaps she would be able to help Adam.

Diotima laughed. "No, not an angel, my dear. I work for myself, no higher being as far as I'm aware. In a way, I suppose you can say that my desire to help humans is purely philosophical. For just as there are schools in the world dedicated to studying human thought and reason, there are also beings out there who take delight in studying humans, observing the ways man has changed and grown over the decades. Some of our kind choose to approach our studies in a practical manner, hoping to improve mankind and prevent any future calamities from falling upon them. Others, like my partner, treat the practice as more of a desk job. And well...I suppose when our kind live as long as we do, we do not have a lot of better things to do with our time."

"I think I understand," said Belle.

"Good," Diotima smiled. "I knew you were a smart girl. Now, over ten years ago, as I was journeying through a small village in the guise of an old beggar woman, I had the displeasure of meeting a young prince who was both spoiled and malicious in character. Out of curiosity, I followed him back to his castle and learned that due to a neglectful childhood he had never known love and, in its absence, had chosen to surround himself by material gifts. I anticipated a great destruction would fall upon him if he continued to indulge himself, which would lead him to become a heartless and tyrannical ruler by the time he became of age. In order to save him, I enacted a change upon him - a change that would force him to comprehend love the same way I had explained it to my pupil over two millennia ago. For almost ten years, I watched the prince suffer under the beastly form I had given him, believing his ugliness prevented him from being worthy of true beauty. He was on the verge of discovering love, but believed he did not have the body to attain it."

"Things remained this way until you came to the castle to find your father. For half a year you lived with the beast, and in that time he slowly lost his animalistic qualities, taking on the mannerisms of the prince he should have been ten years ago. He was well on his way to grasping love and beauty as I had explained it to my student all those years ago. But then, on the eve of his twenty-first birthday, he did something I did not expect. He let you return to your father. In all my years as a wandering enchantress, I'd only known of a few subjects whose selflessness grew to the point that they'd give up their life for the person they cared about. Naturally, I took an interest in him. I decided to restore his life, to see if he would still pursue you even after he had freed you. It was not an easy journey, and required some assistance from my coworker, but in the end, it seems you both ended exactly where I expected."

"So you broke his curse just to see if he would love me enough to rescue me?" Belle surmised. "But…what about the servants? Why would you make the effort to reverse his transformation, but not theirs?"

"My dear, it was always my intention that everyone in the castle would be restored to their original forms once you had reunited," Diotima explained. "But transformation spells can be very difficult to undo, especially when they have already expired. It is possible, but very complicated - like trying to make parchment whole again after you've torn it apart. So instead, I settled on a compromise. I would restore the prince to his human form to save him from dying, and also place a magical catalyst on him that would be triggered once you said to him 'I love you.' I was sure that once he revealed himself, admitting your feelings for him would be the natural next step. But you, my dear, baffled me. Aphrodite herself was weeping for the stolen hours you spent together in his chambers, but why on earth didn't you say anything to him?"

"Oh." Belle bit her lip. When Diotima put it that way, she did feel a bit silly. Everything had happened so suddenly when she and Adam were together, she supposed that things just worked out better when they didn't say anything at all. It was as though they already had admitted they loved each other, they just hadn't felt a need to put it into physical words.

"Do you love him, my dear?" Diotima asked as she looked Belle straight in the eyes.

"I do," Belle replied. "Beast or human, I love him. I'd do anything for him."

Diotima smiled. "Then consider him saved, my dear."

A white light appeared over Adam's stab wound, rapidly expanding over his body and out across the balcony. It moved like a tidal wave past Belle's knees up on to the walls and windows of the castle. When she looked up, it was to see the rain clouds break away for dawn as the castle walls showed their ivory whiteness for the first time in over ten years.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks to TrudiRose for her outstanding beta work on this chapter (especially since I absolutely hated writing it), and also for letting me reference her Gaston fanfiction <em>As The Twig Is Bent _for the brief mention of the fistfight at the beginning of this chapter._ As The Twig Is Bent_ is a great fanfic to anyone wanting to see what sort of life Gaston lived growing up. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to read into his psychology and characterization a little more than what we see in the movie._


	24. Rapture

Adam awoke with a start. His cheek was pressed against something hard and his right arm was twisted at a strange angle. He also seemed to be growing colder, as though something warm had passed through him, then disappeared without explanation. Was this why he'd woken up?

Opening his eyes, he could see the fuzzy shape of a white balustrade backlit by an orange sunrise. There was also someone kneeling next to him – someone with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He _knew_ that ponytail...

"Belle?" he said before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

The figure shifted and let out a small gasp. "Bea-Adam!"

Before he could even lift his head, she threw herself over him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Although he couldn't see her, the flowery scent in her hair told him enough. It was Belle. Memories came flooding back to him: waking up next to Belle in the West Wing, servants coming to warn him of Gaston's attack, going to confront Gaston, Belle intervening, Gaston stabbing him in the back. His final moments had been spent in Belle's arms, trying to comfort her while despairing the fact that he'd failed to protect her. Gaston was going to take her back to the village and force her to become his wife...

Except he _hadn't _taken her away. As his vision grew clearer, Adam realized that the hunter was no longer on the balcony. Belle must have escaped! This revelation filled him with a warm fuzzy feeling. He pushed his chest off the ground and wrapped his own arms around Belle, returning her embrace. Only – he shouldn't have been _able_ to sit up, much less move, due to his injury. Before, even shifting a fraction had made him tear up in agony. Now there was nothing – he was free of any pain.

Belle must have noticed this anomaly too, for after a minute of hugging Adam, she pulled away and looked at his chest. "Your wound!" she said in surprise.

He followed her gaze, startled to see that the place where Gaston had stabbed him was now whole and smooth. Aside from the drying bloodstains on his shirt, it looked as though he'd never been injured. A quick check of his hands and mouth told him that they were clean of blood as well.

"She must have healed you...before she left," Belle continued in amazement.

"She?" he repeated, confused.

"The enchantress," she explained. "It was a miracle, Adam. Just when I thought I'd lost you, she came and saved us both. She was furious with Gaston for trying to kill you, so she threatened to turn him into a beast unless he completed a task for her. Gaston was afraid of what would happen if he refused, so he agreed, and he took LeFou with him. They all disappeared just before you woke up."

Adam looked as though Belle had just told him that Cogsworth had decided to resign from his job as head of household to work as an acrobat at the local circus. He knew it would have taken a miracle to tear Gaston away from Belle. But even he would have never guessed that that miracle would be the same woman who had sent him on his directionless soul search all those weeks ago. "She _really_ stopped Gaston?" he asked her as moved himself into a sitting position.

Belle nodded. She was about to tell him the whole story when she noticed two men running out on to the balcony towards them. The first was a thin man with mousy brown hair and a long nose; the second, a rotund man with dark brown hair and a pocket watch. Belle had never seen them before, but their faces and postures were strikingly familiar. She and Adam got to their feet to meet them.

"Lumiere?" Adam said to the first man.

The man he'd called Lumiere grinned. "_Oui, c'est moi! _You have done it, both of you! You have broken the spell!"

It took a moment for Belle to understand what Lumiere meant. Then, she remembered. By confessing her love, she'd broken the enchantment over the castle, restoring both Adam and the servants to their original forms. They were all human again. "I can't believe it," she said, looking from the maitre d' to the second man, who she now recognized as Cogsworth. "This is amazing!"

"Indeed it is," Cogsworth nodded. "And it's so good to know you're both safe. When we found out you hadn't reached your father, Belle, we were frantic with worry. We searched everywhere, trying to find you."

"You must come inside, _mes maîtres,"_ Lumiere added. "Everyone is waiting to see you."

To say "everyone" was waiting to see them was no understatement. Belle and Adam had only a minute to admire the castle's new white interior before they were met by a cacophony of voices echoing from the floor below them. They stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down to see a mob of servants clapping and cheering for them from the landing. Belle couldn't recognize everyone, but those she did recognize included Mrs. Potts, Chip, Babette, Madame de la Grande Bouche, Fife, Angelique, Webster, Crane and La Plume.

"_Quel bonheur!" _Babette cried.

"It is a miracle! Simply a miracle!" Mrs. Potts said with tears in her eyes.

"You must tell us how you broke the spell, mademoiselle," said La Plume.

"I wouldn't mind hearing the whole story too," Adam said from behind her.

Not one to keep anyone in suspense, Belle agreed. For the next ten minutes, she relayed to everyone how Diotima had threatened to turn Gaston into a beast for his selfishness unless he agreed to embark on a quest for her. By the time she got to the part about the cursed princess, the servants looked amazed and Adam looked positively baffled.

"So then...she let him off the hook," he said. "He nearly killed me, and he got a princess out of it?"

"Oh no!" said Belle. "It's not like that at all. The princess isn't what Gaston thinks she is: the enchantress told me that she turns into an ogre every night. So Gaston will have to learn to look past her appearance if he wants to break her spell. It's the same lesson you learned – just a different way of teaching it. And if _he_ _can't_ rescue the princess or break her spell, then the enchantress will return and turn him into a beast after all. "

Belle's explanation made sense, but Adam was still skeptical. Next to being a prisoner for ten years, gallivanting in a foreign land, slaying a dragon and rescuing a princess was hardly his idea of a punishment. But then again, put in Gaston's shoes, the Prince knew he wouldn't have lasted an hour in the wilderness without complaining that his punishment was unfair. Maybe the enchantress wanted to trick Gaston into _thinking_ the princess was worthy of him before he rescued her. Adam still wasn't entirely happy with Gaston's sentence, but could be happy knowing Gaston would have that disappointment to face once he saw what the princess really looked like. And if he failed, he'd end up suffering the same curse as Adam had anyway. That definitely cheered him up.

"Well what happened next?" he asked Belle. There had to be more to the story, or else the spell wouldn't be broken, and he wouldn't be alive right now.

Belle continued on to explain the mechanics behind Diotima's enchantment, and how she had to confess her love for Adam in order to break it. By the end of her tale, the servants were delighted while Adam was dumbfounded.

"That was all it took?" he said as he looked back at Belle.

"That's all it took."

"I knew it," Lumiere said smugly. "I knew that love was what he needed to break the spell! Didn't I tell you all that that was the answer?"

"So all those times we were in the woods, we could have broken it _weeks _ago!" Adam muttered. "But because I didn't believe—"

"It's done," Belle reminded him gently, putting a hand on his cheek. "We're together now, and that's what matters. I'm just glad you're _alive. _When Gaston attacked you...I thought I was going to lose you forever."

"I'd never leave you, Belle," the Prince replied, looking back at her affectionately. "If there was a way I could come back to life, just to stop Gaston from taking you away, I would. But why on earth didn't you leave the castle when I asked you to?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she answered. "I couldn't leave you with Gaston and not know what happened to you._ I love you."_

It was the first time Adam had heard her say those words, and they immediately wiped all regrets about not breaking the spell earlier from his mind. Not caring who was watching, he leaned towards her face and kissed her. Belle was startled at first, and then she tilted her head and kissed him back.

For the servants, who had been waiting for Belle and their master to kiss for ages, it couldn't have been a more satisfying moment.

* * *

><p>The next fifteen minutes passed by in a blur for Belle and the Prince. Servants everywhere showered them with hugs and words of gratitude, so happy they were to be human again they could barely contain themselves. Belle tried her best to smile and return their thanks where she could, but as dawn turned to morning, she found herself thinking less about the servants and more about returning to bed. This was the longest she'd been awake since her illness, and now that Adam's life was no longer on the line, she was aware exactly how sore and weary her body was becoming.<p>

Adam must have noticed Belle was getting tired too. Eventually he turned to Cogsworth and Lumiere and asked them to manage the servants while he escorted Belle to her room. They walked back together in silence, Belle thinking about how easy it was to believe Adam was the Beast when she closed her eyes. She knew now of course that he'd _always _been the Beast. She just hadn't opened her mind to the idea until now.

Adam still couldn't believe how fortunate he was. In less than a quarter of a day he'd survived a fatal stab wound, learned that Belle loved him, and was rid of Gaston, hopefully for good. For the first time in several weeks, he and Belle were free to start over, all past mistakes and misunderstandings behind them.

Well, not _all _of them.

Their night of passion in the West Wing was still fresh in Adam's mind. Ultimately, he was still unsure of what he should do. He knew what the prince in his old portrait would have done: nothing. After all, it wasn't unusual for a prince to have a mistress or two. Had he not been cursed, he might have bedded tons of women already and not cared for any of them. But he didn't think of Belle that way.

He loved her.

He hadn't wanted Belle solely for her body tonight. He wanted her for her mind, for her spirit. For the fact that he'd made so many mistakes, and she was the only one who saw him, not as a beast, but the man he _wanted _to be. Even if they decided not to consummate their love physically again, there were still too many things about tonight he couldn't erase, things that continued to haunt him as he walked beside her, closer than they'd been in weeks.

He would never pressure Belle into making a decision she didn't want to make. But there was one thing he could do to show her that he still cared and that he didn't want to treat what they had done together as a one-time mistake they would never speak of again. He just had to ask her first.

* * *

><p>Back in her room, Belle sat at the edge of the mattress and watched as the Prince sat down beside her, placing both his hands in hers. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again, but then she realized he was looking at the floor instead of her face.<p>

"Is something wrong?" she asked him in concern.

"Belle," he began hesitantly. "I've…done a lot of stupid things these past few weeks. I lied to you. I let you spend weeks mourning for me, when I should have been comforting you. I doubted your feelings for me. I hurt you. And…" he paused. "If it wasn't for the fact that I almost lost you to those wolves that night, I may have never realized how much you really meant to me."

He took a deep breath. "I love you, Belle. I've loved you since the day you mended my arm when I was the beast – maybe even sooner. And after what we...did last night, I don't think I want to go on anymore without you being somewhere in my life. I…need to ask you."

"Ask me what?" said Belle. He couldn't mean...?

"To marry me," he finished, watching her hopefully. "But only if that's what _you_ want."

Belle opened and closed her mouth rapidly, realizing he was serious. "Of course it's what I want," she said before she could stop herself. She'd missed Adam terribly these past few weeks, missed him in a way she'd never knew she could miss anyone. And she'd made love to him, so a marriage would legitimize anything, especially if she became with child. The idea of having a family – of having any future with her beast – was comforting after mourning him for so many weeks. Still, there was one thing she needed to know before she completely consented. "But what about your status? I mean...can you do that? I thought that princes couldn't marry commoners."

"It doesn't matter," he replied dismissively. "I'd find a way to make it work. Even if it meant changing my name, giving up my title, finding a job, living in your village. You mean too much for me not to try."

Belle exhaled deeply. "You'd really do all that for me?" she asked, moved by his dedication.

"Yes."

One look into his blue eyes and she knew he was telling the truth. This was not the selfish beast who had imprisoned her father. This was a man who would risk everything to defend her freedom, a man who had concealed his identity because her happiness meant more to him than his own. This was a man who had loved her even when he thought she didn't love him back, who would die for her if he had to. Suddenly, Belle didn't have any more questions to ask.

"Then yes," she confirmed. "Yes, I will."

Adam straightened up with a start. "Really?"

"You're surprised?"

"I…I'm sorry," he admitted. "I just…given how many times Gaston tried to pressure you into marrying him before, I wasn't sure if you would agree…or even be comfortable with the idea. I knew I wanted to ask you…I just wasn't sure how you'd feel about it."

Belle saw his logic and resisted the urge to laugh. "Gaston believed in marriage in the practice of the word, not the principle," she explained to him. "His idea of a wife was someone who could secure his reputation, who would cook, clean, and give him children. There's no excitement in that. I always knew that if I married, I wanted to marry for love. I wanted to be with someone who would accept me for who I was, just like my parents did when they married each other. That someone is you, whether you believe it or not." She trailed a hand down the side of his face. "My prince in disguise."

The smile on Adam's face was even brighter than the sunlight coming through her window. She couldn't remember the last time he'd looked so happy. "Thank you, Belle," he said. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

He embraced her and she responded, wrapping her own arms tightly around his back. In the past several weeks she'd lost him, mourned him, found him, become one with him, saved his life. It was nice to know now that she would be walking with him, hand-in-hand, to the light at the end of the tunnel.


	25. Decisions

Adam stuck around for an hour after proposing to Belle to talk to the servants before he, too, turned in for the day. He was as tired as a dog by the time he hit his pillow, but he couldn't sleep. All he could think about was Belle. Belle, who had agreed to marry him, in spite of all the ways he'd wronged her. All the ways he'd hurt her, and she'd forgiven him. Knowing this made him love Belle even more than before, and also made sleeping alone nearly impossible.

After changing his sleeping position half a dozen times, however, Adam finally dozed off, and didn't wake up again until eight o'clock, when Mrs. Potts came by to visit him.

"Good evening, master," she said cheerfully as she pushed her tea trolley into the room. "Care for a spot of tea? I put some ginseng in it. It's great for stamina, or so I've heard."

"That would be great, Mrs. Potts," Adam said with a yawn. "Thank you. Have you heard from Belle, by the way? Is she all right?"

"Oh yes, master. She's doing just fine," Mrs. Potts said as she poured a cup for him. "Woke up about an hour ago before you did, as a matter of fact. She's in her room talking to her father right now."

"Oh." Adam frowned as he accepted the steaming tea cup from Mrs. Potts. He was hoping to see Belle again tonight, but he guessed he had to consider that other people wanted to see her, too. Especially Maurice. He must have been worried sick about her, given the circumstances. "Do you think you could bring some dinner to them?" he asked.

"Certainly, master. But I don't understand. Don't you want to eat dinner with Belle?"

"I would. But I think she deserves some time with her father tonight," he replied. "Is there... uh...anything I can help with around the castle in the meantime?"

"Hmm...well, now that you mention it, the stable keeper, Quentin, did mention that one of the horses was giving him some trouble earlier today. I can send him a message if you're interested in lending him a hand."

Adam groaned. "That sounds like Magnifique." The only person he seemed to behave around was Belle, and he was a complete menace to everybody else. "Well, tell him to meet me in the stables in half an hour," he told Mrs. Potts. "I'll take care of it."

As soon as he'd finished dinner, the prince went down to the stables, where Quentin showed him the stall where he'd detained the recalcitrant horse. Upon seeing the steed, however, Adam was surprised to realize that he wasn't Magnifique at all, but Gaston's old stallion, André.

"Gaston must have forgotten to ask the enchantress for him before he went on his quest," he concluded as he petted the horse's nose. "I guess that means he's mine now."

As he went to get the grooming brushes, Adam couldn't help remembering how he'd been in these stables only the day before, talking with LeFou before they went to pick tulips for Belle. "It feels strange to know he's not here anymore, André," he said as he brushed the horse's mane. "I mean, it's not like he was my friend or anything, but it was nice talking with him. I'm sure I could have offered him a permanent job here if he'd decided not to go with Gaston." As it was, Adam could only hope that LeFou was happy, and that he would be able to return to Molyneaux safely once he'd helped Gaston rescue the princess.

After he'd brushed and fed André, Adam returned to his room, where he spent the rest of the night reading the epilogue to _Metamorphoses. _The next morning, he received breakfast in bed from the servants and got a message from Belle to meet her in the library at ten o'clock. Adam tried to eat quickly so he could get ready, but was only halfway finished when Cogsworth and Lumiere came by to speak with him.

"Bonjour, master!" Lumiere began brightly. "You're looking well. We - that is, Cogsworth and I - were wondering if you could give us your permission to write to your uncle to announce that you have returned."

"My uncle?" Adam replied, raising an eyebrow at his maitre d's question. "But…I thought you told me that he thinks I'm dead."

"And he does...for now," Cogsworth confirmed. "But we have come up with a most beguiling cover story."

"A most ridiculous story," Lumiere added.

"Utterly ludicrous!"

"Which is why he'll have to believe us."

"We know how you felt about your parents abandoning you, master," Cogsworth continued, seeing Adam's puzzled expression. "But understand, they always had your best wishes at heart. You are the rightful heir to the throne, and they would have wanted very much for you to take over from them once you became of age. But we cannot take any further action until we contact your uncle."

Adam leaned against his pillows and considered his servants' suggestion. It hadn't occurred to him before, but having a castle full of human residents _did_ raise a bit of a problem. For one thing, now that he no longer had the enchantress's magic to conjure food for the castle, he would have to send servants to the villages to bring back supplies instead. Undoubtedly, the sight of all these servants would soon cause rumours to spread about human activity taking place in the castle, rumours that _might_ just spread far enough to catch the attention of Adam's uncle.

But, if Adam sent a letter to his uncle _now_ announcing his return, he could avoid those complications before they even started. He could keep the castle, the servants, the library. And Belle... "What about Belle?" he asked, turning back to Lumiere and Cogsworth. "Is there any mention of her in this...cover story?"

"Absolutely, master," Cogsworth nodded. "We couldn't compromise her status exactly, but...if your uncle has any common sense in him I am sure he will honour the mademoiselle as if she were his own. Especially...if she is to be the next reigning princess of the province."

At the word "princess" Adam sat up with a start. "How did you -?"

"Ah, you'll find that there are no secrets in this castle when it comes to _l'amour_, master," Lumiere said knowingly. "It wasn't so much what you said when you came back from Belle's room yesterday, but what you _didn't_ say that gave it away."

"Oh," Adam didn't know what he could say to that. He and Belle had planned to announce the engagement together once she was feeling better, but now it seemed that Lumiere and Cogsworth had voided that idea; the cat was already out of the bag. "Well, what is this idea?" he asked them instead. It was one thing to propose to Belle, but arranging a wedding ceremony was another challenge in itself. Adam knew he needed all the help he could get if he wanted this to be one of the happiest and most memorable days of Belle's life.

* * *

><p>Adam only had a few minutes to change out of his nightshirt and into some clean clothes before Maurice came to his room to talk to him. Despite the prince's embarrassment at only being half-decent when he arrived, the old man was very understanding, and even helped him pick out an outfit to wear before he went to meet with Belle: a powder blue jacket with a navy blue vest.<p>

"Thank - thank you for your help, monsieur," the Prince stammered afterwards, adjusting his cravat as he looked himself over in the full-length mirror beside his bed.

"Not at all, your highness," Maurice replied. "Considering you're going to be my son-in-law, I thought it would be good for us to have a little heart to heart."

At the word "son-in-law," Adam turned around in embarrassment. "Monsieur, please understand. It was my intention to ask you for your blessings first, it was just that –"

"Ah, there's no need for that, I understand," said Maurice. "And believe me, if I had any reservations about you and Belle marrying each other, I would have said so in the first place! Belle is very happy - the happiest I've seen her in weeks. And...well, considering everything that happened before, I'm just glad you finally cleared up your little misunderstanding and took the time to talk things out."

"_Talk." _Adam had to study the old man's expression carefully for a moment to make sure he wasn't being sarcastic. "Yes," he said, trying to keep his voice as collected as possible. "It was..._exactly_ what we needed to do."

If the Prince appeared be blushing, which he was sure he was, Maurice didn't seem to notice. "Take good care of her," he said, giving him a light pat on the hand. "That's all I ask. She's my only daughter, and well...a father always worries."

"Oh, absolutely, monsieur! And please, don't feel like you're a stranger here. The castle is your home just as much as your daughter's. Feel free to stay here for as long as you like."

"I think I might just take you up on that invitation." Maurice smiled. "Thank you."

He walked towards the doors, then stopped suddenly and turned to face Adam again. "Your, uh, servants mentioned that you know how to do a little bit of carpentry," he said, shuffling his feet. "Is that true?"

"Oh," Adam raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Well, uh, I used to repair some leaks on the roof and replace some of the rotten window sills here during the curse. Why do you ask?"

"Well...between you and me, my eyesight isn't as good as it used to be," the old man confessed. "When Belle was younger, I always hoped that she would help me with my inventions, but she was always so caught up in her books, I guess it was never meant to be. But maybe – if you're not too busy with your duties, that is – you could help me work on my inventions from time to time?"

Adam blinked at Maurice in surprise. Was he actually asking for an excuse for them to spend more time together? It was a strange concept to him, given their history, but at the same time, flattering. In all his ten years as a Beast, no one had ever asked him for his _help_ before. "I'd like that," he said, smiling.

Maurice nodded graciously. "I look forward to it. Thank you."

Once he had left the room, Adam let out a sigh of relief, unable to believe his dumb luck. Maurice had every reason not to trust Adam, given how cruel he'd been to him and Belle as the Beast. But the fact that Maurice had blessed his marriage and come to talk to him two times now had to mean that he was comfortable with Adam - at least comfortable enough to hold a civil conversation with him. Now that Maurice was about to become his father-in-law, Adam promised himself that he was going to make full amends with the old man, so that by the day of the wedding, Maurice wouldn't even remember that Adam used to be a monster.

* * *

><p>It took a while for Adam to get to the library, given the new changes to the castle. Every corridor he passed was as white and shining as he remembered from his childhood, but even then, his memory had its limits. Oftentimes he had to stop to remember that the big gargoyle statue on the seventh floor was now an angel, or that the stucco painting of the horned demons on the fifth floor was now a painting of cherubs. By the time he finally found the library doors, Adam was half-afraid that Belle had thought he'd lost her message and gone back to her room. But thankfully, she hadn't.<p>

As soon as he stepped into the library, the prince found Belle reading a book in the large, green armchair next to the fireplace. He only had a moment to admire how pretty she looked in her pink dress before the door closed behind him. Belle looked up, and seeing that Adam had arrived, closed her book and ran towards him, only to trip on her ankle and fall to the floor. Luckily, the prince moved quickly and was able to grab her just before hit the ground.

"I'm so sorry!" Belle said in embarrassment as she grabbed on to his shoulders. "The doctor keeps saying I shouldn't move so quickly when I stand up, but I keep forgetting."

"I won't tell if you won't," said Adam. "But here, why don't we both sit down? Just to be safe."

Belle agreed. The two of them got up and sat on the sofa by the window, staring at each other quietly for a few minutes before they started talking. Even though Adam knew appearances weren't everything, he still couldn't help brushing some stray hairs away from his face as he looked back at Belle, wondering what she was thinking about as she looked at him. Did she think he was handsome? Was she satisfied with what she saw, now that he was human?

_Well, she seemed more than satisfied with what she saw two nights ago, _said a voice in the back of his head. At that, he kicked his heel against the floor and looked away from Belle in embarrassment.

"Is something wrong?" Belle asked in concern.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," he replied, forcing himself to look back at her. "I just remembered that I...uh, have something to give you." He reached over beside him handed her _Metamorphoses, _which he'd been hiding behind his back when he entered the library. "I bought this for you back in Bridoré when we were out shopping for supplies," he explained. "I meant to give it to you before we went to your aunt's, but then you ran off and I...ended up holding on to it for longer than I expected."

Belle took the book from Adam and flipped through the pages curiously. "You read this all by yourself?" she asked in amazement.

"Uh, well, not _all _of it," he corrected. "I needed a dictionary to look up a few words I didn't understand. But I think I got the most of it. There's lots of great stories in it: battles, magic, romance...I wouldn't mind reading it again with you."

Belle smiled. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you." Considering that the Beast could barely read a full sentence when she first met him, she found it both sweet and endearing to think that he'd come to love a book enough to want to share it with _her._ It really seemed to stand as a milestone to how much he'd changed in the past few months.

"Another thing, Belle," Adam continued as Belle placed the book down on the windowsill. "I'm...uh, guessing the others told you about the letter Cogsworth and Lumiere are writing to my uncle?"

"Yes. Mrs. Potts told me about it this morning."

"Well, I've been thinking that we should wait for him to write back before we start planning the wedding," he continued. "Just so we have more time to clean up the castle and reorganize everything before he gets here. Would that be all right with you?"

"I guess it would be asking a lot for the servants to plan a wedding while they're still adjusting to being human," Belle nodded. "It's better that we wait for things to settle down a bit before we start making plans."

"There's another thing too, Belle," Adam said as he put his hands over hers. "I know we're engaged now...but I think we should wait for our wedding night _before_ we do anymore...," he sighed, "Anymore..._you-know-what._"

It took a second for Belle to realize what he meant. "Oh. You mean..._lovemaking?" _

Adam's face turned as red as his hair. "Uh, yes. Lovemaking," he repeated mechanically. Mentally, he was kicking himself. _I'm twenty-one years old! Why can't I say one word properly without sounding like an idiot?_ "But uh, don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't _want_ to do it again," he added, trying to conceal his inexpertness. "I just think we need some time to...mentally prepare ourselves this time, instead of rushing right into it just because we did it one time before we were married. Does that make sense?"

Belle bit her lip as she thought of her answer. "We let our emotions get the better of us," she agreed. "We should spend more time together first and wait for a special occasion, when we both feel ready to do it again. I can understand that."

The prince smiled in relief. "Thank you, Belle. And don't get me wrong, it's not that I _didn't _enjoy it. I just...,"

"I know," Belle replied, blushing deeply at his honesty. "I liked it, too. Although...I feel like I owe you an apology. I didn't even realize how bad the bruises on my leg looked until I went to the bathroom to wash myself later. I mean, that's probably why you were so hesitant...at first."

"You looked beautiful," Adam assured her, putting his hand under her chin. "And believe me, I don't think I wouldn't have been able to...to..." he paused, "_make l-love_ to you...if I knew something was going to go wrong. I thought that as long as it was what you wanted, and it wasn't hurting you, it was all right. Actually, I think what surprised me more was how fast you accepted me once you realized I was human. I mean, I'd spent the whole afternoon practising an explanation speech, thinking you'd be _furious_ when I told you the truth, that you'd never want to speak to me again. But if I'd known you'd react the way you did…maybe I wouldn't have hesitated so much."

"I'd _never _be angry over something that petty," Belle replied, trying not to sound offended by Adam's comment. "I was just happy to know that you weren't dead! But I admit, I was surprised about one thing. Why didn't you save yourself all that trouble and tell me who you were when you rescued me back at the village?"

"Because…" Adam hesitated. "I had no idea if you wanted to see me at first. You never told me anything about your village, or Gaston, so I assumed the worst, thinking you sent Gaston to kill me for imprisoning you. And, even after I started to realize that something wasn't right about your engagement, I still thought it was overreaching to think you had feelings for me. It's just…" he paused. "After all those things I did to you and your father, and all the things I gave up the night you left, I started thinking that I _was_ that bad guy, that I didn't deserve to be with anyone. So I hid my face when I came to your village, thinking that if I wasn't meant to find love, I could become someone else instead. Someone selfless, who could make me forget about the monster I used to be."

"Oh, Adam," Belle said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. It broke her heart to know that he had thought that lowly of himself that much that night, to the point that he'd disguised himself just to so he could forget who he was. But at the same time, she could understand his reasoning. She'd never told him about her life at the village, so he was free to draw endless conclusions to why the mob had stormed the castle that night. Add that to the fact that Gaston had brought the magic mirror with him, and he must have had every reason to think that Belle hated him and never wanted to see him again. "I guess that communication hasn't been our strongest point," she said, trying to look at the positives. "I mean, if I told you I'd come back once my father was feeling better, or if you told me that you needed my love to break the spell, maybe we could have stopped Gaston from coming to the castle altogether. I just...I didn't know I felt that way about you. Not at first."

"It's all in the past now," Adam reminded her gently. "All I know is that I don't want to be unhappy anymore. And I don't want to miss out on the chance to be with you, again."

He moved his face closer to hers, and Belle, catching on, placed her right hand on his left shoulder and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle kiss that brought back many sensations from their night together. Belle struggled not to go any further. She'd already promised Adam that she was going to wait until they were married before they consummated again, and she was going to hold on to that promise, no matter how much her body seemed to want the opposite.

After a minute or so, they pulled away, but kept their arms wrapped around each other. "I don't want there to be any more secrets between us, Belle," Adam said to her. "If there's anything you want to know about me, my past, or my family, I'll tell you right here."

"I'd start with knowing your name."

"My name?" he repeated, surprised. "But you already know my name! It's Adam."

"I mean your full name," she clarified. "I thought most noblemen are given four first names at birth, at least."

"Oh. Right. Well, let's see..." He began to count on his fingers. "There's Adam, Vincent, Christophe, Ruskin..."

"Ruskin?" Belle made a face.

"Yes, Ruskin. It's a German word for 'red-haired' I think. Named after my great-grandfather."

"I like Adam the best," Belle decided. "It suits you."

Adam smiled, one of the first smiles he'd consciously remember making in weeks. With that question aside, they began to talk about other things for the rest of the morning.


	26. Love

Dusk. Adam rolled up the sleeves of his nightshirt, staring pensively at the view outside his balcony. The quarter moon had finally risen, casting the grounds in a silvery light, while across the viaduct the silhouetted forest looked like an army of giants waiting to strike. Around him, the cool air smelt of fresh soil and wet leaves.

At times like this, when the prince was alone, he often reminisced on his past as a Beast and how time had always haunted him. Whether he was counting the petals on the rose, or watching the sunset, he never forgot that time was non-erasable and nothing, no power on earth, could ever change that. Every petal he lost brought him closer to sealing his fate as a Beast, forever. Every sunrise he saw marked another day closer to his twenty-first birthday. Even now that he was human again, all it took was one look outside his balcony to remind him that the world outside his castle remained unchanged. _"We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone,"_ as Belle had read to him in a book once.

_If only I _could_ make time my subject, then I'd reverse it and wouldn't be in this situation right now._

It had been three weeks since Adam had proposed to Belle. In that time, they'd quickly rebuilt the relationship they'd left hanging the night Gaston had attacked the castle. Adam honestly didn't know how he could have lived without her, when so much of his happiness came from her – her smile, her intelligence, her laughter. Every day he spent with her, he learned something new about her. Every day he looked at her, those lonely days on the road became more and more like a passing dream. After three perfect weeks, he should have known he'd do something to mess everything up again. Something like an argument.

When Adam thought back to why they'd been arguing today, he knew he could have easily avoided it if only he'd controlled his temper. Since Belle's ankle had healed the week before, she'd taken it upon herself to help the servants clean up the castle before Adam's uncle arrived. Today, while Adam was busy working on some administrative papers with Cogsworth in the library, she'd decided to tackle his old study on the seventh floor. The room in question was filthy from ten years of neglect, the floor badly scratched and in desperate need of a washing. It was in such bad condition, in fact, that after closer inspection, Belle decided to remove all the furniture from the room so they could scrub the floor all at once instead of in sections. It was a smart plan, except that no one had told Adam about it. So when he walked into the room later that day in search of spare quills, and instead walked into a room with no furniture, he was furious.

_"That's my room, Belle!" he shouted. "Why did you go in there without asking me?"_

_"We needed to clean the floor! It's filthy!" she retorted. "What else did you expect me to do?"_

"_You could have told me you were cleaning out my bureau before you went in there and started touching my things!"_

_"You were busy, and we need to get this room cleaned today! May I remind you're not the only person who lives in this castle, Adam?"_

_"That's not the point!" he snapped back at her. "The point is, you have no consideration for my private space and belongings! You always have to barge in wherever you feel like it, touching things you have no right to - just like that time in the West Wing. You're so…so _selfish!"

_"Me, selfish?" Belle looked abashed. "I've been nothing but slaving away out here, getting everything ready before your uncle arrives! But you on the other hand, you always have to overreact to everything, losing your temper and screaming over every minor detail, just like a –"_

_"A what?"_

"_A _Beast!"

That was the last straw for Adam. The next minute, he and Belle had started yelling at each other so fiercely, they sent all the nearby servants running for cover. By the end of their argument, Belle stormed off to her room and Adam, who was about ready to smash something, went outside and took Magnifique out for a ride in the forest. It was there that his anger soon ebbed away, replaced by a heavy sense of guilt. He couldn't believe it. After a month of thinking he'd put the Beast behind him, all he needed was to say one insensitive thing to Belle to send their relationship back to square one. He hadn't meant to call her selfish, but he was angry that she'd touched his things, and the words had spilled out without reason. Now his only hope of making things right again was to apologize. If he still had a chance to apologize, that was. By the time he rode back to the castle, the sun had set and Belle had already gone to bed.

Back in the West Wing now, Adam drummed his fingers against the balcony, unsure of what he should do. It was too late to see Belle, but he wasn't sure _he_ could sleep until he said sorry to her. At the same time, he was afraid that she _wouldn't _accept his apology. And he was also afraid that if he didn't act soon, Belle might choose to break off their engagement, pack her bags and leave the castle, forever.

He continued to wrestle with these troubling emotions when he heard a knock on the door. Wondering if a servant had come to call on him, he grabbed his night robe from the nearby couch and ran to the front of the room to answer it. It wasn't a servant. It was Belle.

One look at her and Adam wondered how she'd managed to walk so far from her room without anyone noticing. All she was wearing was her nightgown; no peignoir and no room slippers. Her hair was loose and tangled and her cheeks were dripping with tears.

"Belle!" he said in alarm. "What happened?"

"I...wanted to say I'm sorry for touching your furniture, Adam," she replied without looking at him. "You're absolutely right. I should have told you I was cleaning up your bureau, first. And I'm sorry I called you a Beast. I know that makes you upset. I was frustrated, and it slipped out. I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand."

Adam was astonished. In the seven months he'd known her, he'd _never_ heard Belle apologize to him before. He always in the wrong in their arguments, and therefore he always had to ask for her forgiveness. It was never the other way around. "Belle, I'm the one who should be apologizing," he replied. "I didn't mean to call you selfish. I just…lost my temper. You were only trying to help. What I meant to say was that I'm _glad _you're doing all this work for me, truly. But…"

He paused as he watched Belle wipe a tear away from her face. That's when it hit him.

"You didn't just come here to say sorry, did you?"

She shook her head and sniffled. "I had a nightmare."

Adam's expression softened at these words. It may have only been a few weeks, but he still couldn't forget how Belle used to cry out in her sleep while they were on the road together. This was not something to take lightly. "Please come in."

Belle didn't hesitate as he guided her into the West Wing and sat her down on the nearest sofa. He left her side for a moment to close the door to the balcony, then returned, taking off his night robe and draping it around her shoulders.

"Tell me what happened," he said as he took a seat next to her.

Belle took a deep breath before she answered. "Gaston kidnapped me, and locked me in the asylum," she explained. "I was pregnant. And when the baby was born..." She shuddered. "…His eyes were just like your eyes. I tried to escape so I could find you, and tell you you had a son, and you had to keep him safe, but I couldn't because Gaston sent a mob to the castle to kill you. I started crying. And that's when I woke up."

Adam inhaled sharply through his nose. "Belle –,"

"I'm sorry!" she replied agitatedly. "I didn't mean to worry you like this. It's just, I felt so terrible, before I went to bed about our argument. And it made me think about how I felt when I thought you were dead, and what could have happened if Diotima hadn't come and –"

"Oh, Belle," Adam muttered, fixing her in a tight hug. "I know we don't always agree on everything, but I promise you, nothing's going to take me away from you...or..." He paused. "_A son_...if we have one. You have to believe that. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. But I put you through some_ terrible _things last month. You'd have to have a heart of steel to come out of this unscathed. I'd rather you come talk to me than keep this all to yourself."

Her eyes met his. Belle knew Adam was right. She'd always been a shoulder for others to cry on, but with him, she didn't always have to be. He was the one who had asked her what was wrong that night they'd danced together, letting her go to her father so she'd be happy. He was the one who'd lain with her in the West Wing because the grief she carried was too immense, and some things couldn't heal with time and words alone. Adam knew her pain more than anyone did, and more than that, he loved her, loved her enough to see her through the good, bad and ugly moments in their relationship. It didn't matter if she thought what she felt was insignificant. To him, it meant everything.

Sniffling again, Belle rested her head against Adam's shoulder and closed her eyes. He smelt like a fresh meadow, and his breathing had a soothing timbre to it. The more she listened, the more her nightmare and their argument seemed to fade from her memory. "Could I...stay with you, tonight?" she asked him finally. "I think I can sleep better when you're here with me."

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Of course you can. I'd worry about you all night if you didn't."

Several kisses later, Belle and Adam lay down on the bed. Adam was on his back while Belle was on her side, one hand on her fiancé's chest and the other propping up her head.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, looking down at him.

"Mmm?"

"What did you miss the most when we were on the road together?"

He shifted, trying to think of a suitable answer. "I missed talking to you." he said finally.

"Really?" She looked surprised.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I never realized how much of an impact you made in my life until I cut you out completely. Whenever I looked at you, I would always wonder what you were thinking about or what sort of things we might talk about if…if I didn't think you hated me." He paused. "It's funny: I was so determined to get you and your father to safety, I never realized how frustrating it would be to spend a week with you and not say anything. It was almost like…like how Odysseus must have felt when he returned to Ithaca in disguise and saw his wife for the first time. He probably wanted to tell her it was him the moment they were alone, but he knew he'd ruin all his chances at restoring his kingdom if he did. No matter how much Odysseus loved Penelope, or how much she pined for him, he had to be sure she was faithful first. For a man who hadn't seen or talked with his wife in twenty years...that must have been very difficult."

Belle smiled. "That's a good analogy, except for one thing," she said. "Penelope didn't realize the beggar was Odysseus until _after _he won the archery tournament. I know it sounds strange, but I think there was a part of me that knew, right from the beginning, that it was you."

"You did?" Adam turned to her in disbelief. "But how? I never showed you my face."

"It wasn't a _conscious _realization," she emphasized. "More like an intuition. Whenever I was with you, I felt safe, as if I could tell you anything and you would listen. I thought it was all in my imagination at first, so I kept it to myself. Then later, when I had that dream about you, I knew I had to go back alone. It sounds foolish, but after our conversation in the tavern, I was afraid that if I stayed, and told you what I saw, you might say something to change my mind about returning. Does that make sense?"

Adam nodded. "You didn't want to be manipulated again, after what Gaston did to you and your father."

"I thought that if I listened to someone else, even let myself open up to the possibility of moving on, or admitting I was starting to have feelings for someone, I'd forget about _you," _Belle clarified. "I was the only one outside the castle who didn't think you were a monster, remember? I thought that if I tried to put you behind me, I'd be betraying your memory, and then it would be as if you never existed. I couldn't let that happen."

Belle's words struck a chord in Adam. Of course he didn't doubt that Belle loved him by now. But he was still touched to know that she'd been holding on to his memory when he was sure she wanted to forget him completely. "You really are Penelope," he told her, caressing her hair gently. "Loyal to the one she loved, even when she thought he was dead. Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't think I could have offered you anything more than friendship...if you'd decided not to leave that night. I'd feel guilty that I was lying to you and I'd be going against why I saved you in the first place. In the end, I'd be too scared of hurting you."

Belle bent her face closer to Adam. "And that's why I'm marrying you and not Gaston," she told him. "You value honesty over pride. You just need to have a little more faith in yourself now."

"I know," he said. "And I'm working on it."

Satisfied with this answer, she bent down to kiss him again.

Later that night, Adam snuggled closer to his fiancée, thinking of what a miracle it was to be beside her, despite all the hardships they'd faced. When he had first let Belle go to her father, Adam accepted his fate with open arms. He thought that Diotima had cursed him to torment him, to remind him he'd always be selfish, and that he would never deserve Belle, no matter how hard he tried to change for her. Now, he realized how blind he'd been. It wasn't wrong to _want _someone, but it was wrong to want them _selfishly,_ never putting their needs before your own. Lust was momentary, but love was enduring. It alone could make a man from a Beast. Diotima hadn't only given Adam another chance to live by breaking his spell; she'd also given him the insight to understand this difference and realize that he _did _love Belle. He'd loved her all along.

As he came to this conclusion, a question came to Adam's mind. Would Gaston, too, learn to love the princess when he rescued her? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he might never know the answer. After all, no two minds were alike. Trying to predict someone else's life choices was like trying to count all the waves on the sea – impossible.

This may not have made Adam wise, but it certainly made him glad. For he realized now that good and bad things happened to people every day. But it was what they made from those things, not the situations themselves, that defined who they really were.

* * *

><p>Belle carefully descended the grand staircase; one hand on the balustrade and the other holding up the hem of her golden ball gown. A smile spread across her face as she saw Adam waiting for her on the landing. He was dressed in his old blue jacket and yellow waistcoat, altered to fit his human form.<p>

"So, no more hoods?" she said once they were in earshot of each other.

"No more hoods," he repeated. "Unless you want me to wear one?"

Belle laughed. "You have a nice face. You shouldn't hide that."

Adam smiled bashfully back at Belle. Even though he'd been human for over a month now, he still wasn't used to hearing her compliment him on his appearance. It sounded strange to him, as though she were talking about somebody else – not him, the Beast. He offered her his arm, and together, they made their way down to the ballroom. They were only halfway there, however, when Adam started to notice that Belle was walking much slower than him.

"Forget something?" he asked, turning to her.

"What? Oh no. I guess I'm a bit nervous, that's all."

"You nervous?" He looked at her, alarmed. "Belle, you can't be! If you're nervous, then _I'll_ get nervous and we'll _both _give ourselves away."

"What do _you _have to be nervous about?" she retorted. "This is _your_ uncle we're meeting with! Your family."

"Yes, but he's an uncle I haven't seen in over ten years," he reminded her. "I'm not even sure I remember what he looks like anymore, to be honest."

"At least he'll _know_ who you are," she argued. "I'm the 'mystery fiancée' who has to make a good first impression on him, remember?" She sighed. "Maybe I'd feel better if we went over Lumiere and Cogsworth's cover story again. Just one more time?"

"Very well," Adam stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to face her. "Over ten years ago, a group of bandits kidnapped me while I was riding my horse alone in the woods. They were planning to hold me as a ransom for the king. I managed to escape; but I fell down a gorge, hit my head on some sharp rocks and lost my memory. The bandits couldn't see me in the dark and left me for dead, thinking I'd fallen into the river and drowned. For the next nine years, I wandered the countryside as a beggar, panhandling and sleeping in cathedrals to stay alive. Then, the winter before my twenty-first birthday, I contracted pneumonia and would have died if –"

"– if my father and I hadn't found you while we were coming back from my aunt's," Belle finished, remembering her part in the story. "I brought you to our cottage and nursed you back to health. I knew you had no home of your own, so once you recovered, I offered you a place with us, working as our farm boy. Every evening, when you finished the chores I would make you a meal in the kitchen. Soon, we became friends, and then we fell in love."

"That's right," Adam nodded. "Then one day, Philippe kicked me in the head while I was trying to get him into the pen during a thunderstorm. All my memories came back to me. I knew I didn't want to leave you, after all the kindness you'd shown me. So I decided to marry you, and take you and your father back to my castle as payment for saving my life. Which brings us both here."

"I don't know, Adam," Belle said, wrinkling her nose. "It sounds like a very odd story to me. Are you sure your uncle will believe it?"

"Lumiere says that my uncle is as gullible as a chicken," Adam replied. "As long as we keep the story straight and act the parts, he won't suspect a thing. And if he does...well, I still made you a promise." He caressed the side of her face. "We'll run away from here and live the rest of our lives as commoners. I don't need a castle to be happy."

Belle smiled at Adam and kissed him on the cheek. His sincerity reassured her, but she still hoped that everything would go well, for both their sakes.

The ballroom looked smaller than Belle remembered, owing to the fact that it was filled with over fifty guests, wearing gowns and jackets of every color imaginable. After Cogsworth announced Belle and Adam to the crowd, the prince nervously thanked everyone for coming, and then nodded at Fife to start the orchestra.

As the sound of violins and harpsichord filled the room, Belle felt considerably more at ease. This was her engagement ball, after all – a time for her and Adam to celebrate and enjoy themselves after all the trauma they'd faced. She watched as the guests made their way to dance, and that's when she spotted a familiar set of faces in the crowd. "Adam, look!" she exclaimed, tugging at her fiancé's arm.

Adam turned to where Belle was pointing. There, waving at them from across the room was Francis, Irène, Damien and Clothilde - only the servants had dressed them so well for the occasion, one would hardly guess they were a family of modest farmers from Bridoré. Seeing that the royal couple was approaching them, Francis and Damien bowed while Irène and Clothilde curtsied, respectfully.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, your highness," said Damien.

"Indeed!" Clothilde chirped beside him. "A prince in my own house, who would have thought! I only wish I'd tidied things up a bit before you came. After living in a beautiful castle like this, our house must have looked like an absolute pigsty to you."

"Oh, not at all, madame," Adam replied, embarrassed. "Believe me, after spending half a week sleeping in the woods, your home was exactly what we needed. Besides, we were only passing through the countryside until we managed to get in touch with my uncle. We weren't expecting to stay in a palace."

"Well, regardless, we were _more _than happy to help you reunite with your uncle," Damien replied. "And congratulations to both of you on your engagement! I just knew there was a spark between you two, from the very moment I laid eyes on you." He gave Adam a wink, subtly reminding him of the conversation they'd exchanged back in the tavern.

"Yes, thank you so much for inviting us, your majesties," Irène added. "For farmers like us, the chance to wear such fine outfits and walk around in a huge castle is almost unfathomable. I don't know how we can ever repay you."

"Please," Belle said dismissively. "It was the least we could do, after you were all so kind to us. And you all look absolutely stunning in those outfits. How is Yannick doing, by the way?"

"Oh, he's been a great help to us, princess," Irène replied. "We can't thank you enough for sending him to help us with the farm. He's a fast learner, and he's become a great big brother figure for Edgar and Rachel, too. But are you sure you don't need him to help you back here at your castle? We wouldn't want you to lose one of your staff members at our expense."

"Let's just say that Yannick has been working in the kitchens for a _long_ time now," Adam emphasized. "He could use a change of scenery."

"Well I've certainly got no complaints," Francis said as he placed an arm over his wife. "With Yannick and Edgar helping me in the fields now, I can get the chores done twice as fast, and spend time looking after my wife while she brings our next little one into the world."

Belle's eyes lit up in excitement. "You're expecting?" she asked Irène.

"Why, yes," Irène replied, blushing as she placed her hand over her stomach. "I found out just a week after you two left as a matter of fact. The midwife tells me he'll be due in November."

"Well congratulations!" Belle and Adam said together.

"_Merci,_" her husband smiled. "Irène and I were hoping to name him after you, Prince Adam, if he's a boy. That bravery you showed us when you saved our Edgar from the fire is something we'd like all our children to strive for, in every aspect of their lives. But only if that's alright with you, of course."

Adam was stunned. To him, knowing that a family wanted to name their unborn child after him was just as flattering as knowing Maurice wanted to spend time building inventions with him. "It would be an honour, monsieur," he replied.

Shortly after this conversation, the farmers excused themselves to dance. Belle and Adam had just enough time to move to the back of the room when another guest approached them. This time, Belle could tell he was a nobleman, not only from his straight posture, but from the classy outfit he was wearing; a lavender jacket with grey silk britches. His blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his gray eyes conveyed to Belle a sense of sternness and seriousness. The only physical attributes that gave away his relation to Adam was his tall build and his ears, which protruded out from his head the same way her fiancé's did.

"Ah, so there's my nephew!" he said as he approached the young couple.

"Uncle Claude," Adam replied with a nervous bow. "Welcome! So pleased you could make it."

"_Merci pour m'inviter," _his uncle responded. "It's good to be back. I must confess, after abandoning this estate for over ten years, I wasn't sure _what_ condition it would be in once I arrived. But I must say, I'm quite impressed. Everything looks _exactly _as I remembered. Of course, I can't say the same for you nephew, can I?" He stared at Adam attentively. "It looks like you've grown two feet taller, at least. And this is the young peasant woman who saved your life, I presume?" he continued, gesturing to Belle.

"Yes, uncle," Adam said, putting an arm around her. "This is Belle, my fiancée."

"Hmm…well her name certainly speaks for itself," his uncle replied, studying her with interest. "Tell me, mademoiselle, can you read?"

"Yes, your highness." Belle replied, trying to keep her voice as stately as possible.

"Write?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Sing?"

She froze. "Uh...,"

"She's a wonderful singer," Adam said, covering for her. "She has a...a...an impeccable voice range, and perfect pitch!"

"Hmm," Claude scratched his chin thoughtfully. "She'll have to grace us with a private recital sometime. Well, nephew, I've put a lot of thought into the letter you sent me, and given that this young woman has performed such a virtuous act in nursing you back to health, I think your reasons for marrying her are only just. And she does seem to be educated, which is a big asset for any princess, of course. So allow me to be the first to say: _bienvenue à la famille,_ mademoiselle."

Belle was at a complete loss for words. "Th-thank you, your highness," she replied as she accepted the prince's hand to shake.

_"Mon plaisir,"_ Claude nodded. To Adam, he said: "Nephew, I suggest you don't drink too much wine at dinner tonight, hmm? I need you up bright and early tomorrow so I can fill you in on everything you'll need to take care of during my trip next month."

"Your...trip?" Adam repeated, confused.

"Oh yes. Didn't you read my last letter? The king has given me management of a plantation in Saint-Domingue, which means I have to make trips down there regularly to talk with the governor and keep records of how much stock we're sending back to France. The voyage alone will take a month at least. So I'll need someone to look after the province in my absence. And what a better candidate than you? Our long-lost prince."

"Oh," said Adam, wishing he'd received this memo sooner. "Of course. Absolutely, uncle."

"Excellent." Claude smiled. "So we'll meet tomorrow at eight, in your father's old study? I suppose you remember where that is?"

"Yes, uncle."

"_Bon. _Enjoy the festivities, both of you."

"That was a shorter conversation than I thought it would be," Belle said, once Adam's uncle was out of hearing distance.

The prince shrugged. "With the number of aristocrats here, I guess he has to keep his conversations short so he can speak to everyone before the ball's over."

"Oh. Well he seemed to like me, at least," Belle said, relieved.

"Of course he did!" Adam replied. "After the resourcefulness you demonstrated when you saved my life? You're going to turn this whole province around once you become a princess, Belle. I just know it."

"Oh, you're just trying to flatter me."

"You're my fiancée, why shouldn't I? Now may I have this dance, _ma belle?"_

Belle smiled at Adam's formality but graciously accepted his arm, walking with him to the centre of the room with the other dancers. Once there, Adam put one arm around Belle's waist. Following the motion of the other dancers, he and Belle began to move in a graceful circle around the room. As they did, they were only vaguely aware of the handful of servants watching them from the sidelines. Given how many months the staff had been waiting for Belle and the master to fall in love, the sight of them together and engaged exceeded anything they could put into words.

"I have a proposal for you," Adam said once the first movement of the piece had ended.

"What's that?" Belle asked curiously.

"After our wedding, you and I will go on a road trip. A _real_ one this time. We'll go anywhere you want: Paris, Orléans, Versailles. If my uncle permits it, we can even go to Marseilles and take a ship around the Mediterranean to explore the coast. We can go to Greece, Albania, Croatia or Italy. You just say the word, Belle, and we're there."

"Oh Adam, that sounds wonderful!" Belle exclaimed. For years, she'd longed to go on an adventure like the characters in her storybooks. To be able to visit the places she'd spent so long reading about was an absolute dream come true to her. "Could my father come, too?" she added, jokingly.

Adam laughed. "If he wants. Something tells me he'll be happy staying right here, though."

Instinctively, he and Belle turned to see Maurice and Mrs. Potts talking animatedly with each other on the other side of the room. Belle felt herself smiling as she watched them. Mrs. Potts and her father had been spending a lot of time together lately, a fact that had been met with much pleasure by the castle residents, herself included.

"Oh, it's so nice to see them warming up to each other," she said as she turned back to Adam. "After my mother died, I always worried that if I ever left my papa to lead a life of my own, he'd be lonely. I'm glad to know he'll be in good company here, at least."

"As he should be," Adam replied. "He's your father. He deserves to feel happy here. Just like you."

As the next movement of the piece began, Belle ventured to ask Adam: "You told me back when we were in Bridoré that life doesn't always play out as perfectly as it does in the fairy tales. Do you still believe that's true?"

Adam thought on that for a moment. "Well I don't think everyone's life can be that perfect in real life," he answered. "Love, no matter what kind, always requires work. You can't leave everything to fate and expect everything's going to be perfect. The biggest mistake I made when I was in disguise was that I rejected the chance to love, because I didn't think I was in love. It was stupid and it cost me almost everything. I know I never want to that foolish again."

Belle smiled. "I'm glad. Because I know I'm not planning to let go of you anytime soon." Then she pulled him into a kiss, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Adam, who couldn't get enough of Belle's kisses, reciprocated her embrace as though they had all the time in the world.

"_The door is now open; it is simply a matter of finding the courage to walk through_," the enchantress had told him once. When he lay dying in the rain that fateful night, he hadn't understood her words. Now, after all the hardships he'd faced, after almost losing Belle to Gaston, he finally did. Now, he could say he was glad he'd crossed over that threshold, glad, that despite the stumbles and near-wrong turns he'd made that he'd ended up back where he was meant to be. The cloud of uncertainty that had formed from the first day he'd doubted Belle's feelings for him had finally cleared. All that was left now was a bright future, where he could look forward to dancing with her for the rest of his life.

* * *

><p>"Oho, you've outdone yourself again, Diotima!" Aristide said with a smile as he watched Belle and the prince share in a kiss from the other side of the ballroom. "True love at its finest."<p>

"I told you he could do it, didn't I?" Diotima replied smugly. "All he needed was little push, and everything else he did out of his own volition."

"Indeed. But you have to admit, it was a pretty close shave," Aristide replied. "What with that hunter and those wolves – it's a darn good thing that boy knows how to aim! Not that I'm _complaining,_ of course. There's nothing duller than a story about two people who fall in love, get married and that's it. Add a touch of dramatic tension to a story to get people biting at their fingernails and they'll remember it for ages."

"I concur," Diotima nodded. Before she could continue the conversation however, she heard a loud buzzing from her dress. Aristide turned around and stared at her in bewilderment.

"Diotima, you can't put that blasted mirror of yours away, for just a moment?" he said as he watched her pull her magic mirror out of her pocket. "This is an engagement party for goodness sakes!"

"I'm just keeping an eye on my latest subject, Aristide, nothing to get your socks tied up over," Diotima replied. Giving the glass a quick wipe, she looked around to ensure no one was watching and then said: "Show me Gaston."

* * *

><p>"Ugh, it's disgusting!" Gaston said in outrage.<p>

The princess – if he could even call her that – was definitely not what the enchantress had shown him in her magic bubble all those weeks ago. That princess was a beautiful woman with a perfect complexion and body that would make Gaston the envy of his entire village. But this was something else entirely. A chubby, green-skinned creature with floppy soup spoons for ears. She was absolutely hideous.

"That enchantress completely ripped me off, LeFou," he continued, turning back to look at his lackey. "She told me that I'd be rescuing a princess who's as beautiful as me! Not this _thing._"

"It's a spell!" Princess Fiona snapped, putting her hands on her hips. "Didn't your enchantress tell you _anything?" _Walking around the brimstone, she recited dramatically:_ "By night one way, by day another, this shall be the norm. Until you take true love's first kiss, then take love's true form."_

Gaston furrowed his brow in confusion. That poem was just _way _too many words for his head to process. "Could you say that again?" he asked. "In plain French?"

Fiona sighed exasperatedly. "You have to kiss me, and then I'll be beautiful. Okay?" She knew that her rescuer was not exactly cultured, but she hadn't expected him to be _this_ thick-headed_._

"Gross!" Gaston said, taking a step back. "There's no way I'm kissing _you! _Especially when I know you look like _that._ Come on LeFou, we're leaving."

"Uh, Gaston?" LeFou interrupted. "Remember what the enchantress said? We can't go back to our world unless you find a way to break the spell on the princess. I don't know about you, but I don't really want to be stuck here forever. This place gives me the creeps."

Gaston paused. _That is true, _he thought. He _had_ given the enchantress his word that he would break the princess's curse. But the problem was, he _wasn't_ in love with her! He couldn't be, not when she was so unattractive. He stared out at the horizon.

Then it suddenly hit him. HE might not want the princess, but surely there was _some_ desperate, lonely man out there would love to kiss her and have her as a wife! If Gaston could find him and unite him with the princess, then the spell would break, he'd fulfill the enchantress's bargain, and he'd return home, safe and sound. Sure, he wouldn't return have a beautiful princess on his arm, but he could still brag about how he'd saved the princess and found someone to break her curse. Heck, he could almost say he was being _generous, _handing her off to someone more desperate than him_. _This was the best idea he'd had all day.

"All right, new plan," he said aloud. "LeFou, _you_ stay here with the princess. I'm going to find someone who can break the spell for us."

"Wait! You're just going to leave me here?" Fiona said in disbelief.

"Why not?" he said, looking back at her. "I won't be too long. Just until I find someone _ugly _enough to kiss you."

Fiona curled her lip up in a scowl. She was liking her rescuer less and less by the minute. "You're unbelievable!" she said, throwing all her princess etiquette aside. "If you were a real gentleman you'd kiss me anyway, seeing as you're the one who rescued me!"

Gaston drew his brows together in rage. "What did you say?"

"I said, if you were a _real_ gentleman –"

"No one talks to Gaston that way!"

"Well it's about time someone did!"

LeFou sat on a nearby rock and sighed as he watched Gaston and the princess bicker. He could always count on Gaston to dive headfirst into a situation without considering the consequences. This was going to be a long and difficult journey for all of them.

**The End**

* * *

><p><em>(Warning: Super long author's note to follow)<em>

_So that's the end of the story, guys! To think I've been working on this fic for almost three years, crazy! That said, I love this story as much as I hate it, at times I think its impressive, other times I think it's just begging for a rewrite. I could go on, but that would take a while. So, let's continue..._

_This fan fiction was inspired by the movie _The Princess Bride _and the character Ezio Auditore from the video game _Assassin's Creed 2 _(and it's sequels). __Both their stories drew me to the idea of writing an alternate ending fic where the Beast/Prince rescues Belle from an unwilling marriage to Gaston, without giving away his identity. I thought it was a ridiculous idea that wouldn't attract many readers – after all, who wants to read an angsty story about Belle and the Prince when you can have the happy canon one? – but the review count tells me otherwise. To this day, I will never understand why my fic attracted so many people (But I'm very glad that it did!)._

_Since this is one of the longest stories I've ever written, you can guarantee that I had a lot of help along the way. So I'd like to send my thanks to the following people for lending a hand during my three-year long journey:_

_1. To BronyBraeburn, for encouraging me to publish this story, beta reading my first few chapters and being there to bounce ideas off of when the plot was still in its infancy. This story would be a forgotten piece of text on my iPod touch if not for you._

_2. To TrudiRose, for being my second beta reader and making sure all my chapters were shipshape, especially for any scene involving Gaston. I'm pretty sure you've heard this before, but if there was ever a degree for Gaston you'd basically have a doctorate :) Your advice has helped me A LOT, and hopefully will help me with any writing projects (either fan fiction, or original fiction) I take on in the future._

_3. To the members of the Bittersweet and Strange forum for being there to answer my obscure questions and giving me suggestions for loose plot ideas I don't have the luxury of discussing with people in real life. You are all amazing and super helpful people, you should be proud!_

_4. To my tumblr followers, for encouraging me whenever I felt frustrated, especially while trying to plow through these last three chapters. It's always nice to remember that writing isn't a race and there's people out there who are willing to wait as long as it takes for an update._

_5. And last (but not least) to ALL my readers and reviewers, who waited so patiently for my updates, even with all the school/health/family related things happening in my life. This story wouldn't have come as far as it did, if not for all of you! So thanks!_

_I like to leave a special surprise for my readers after I've finished a multi-chapter fic, so if you visit the link below you will be taken to the official writing playlist for A Prince in Disguise. This is basically a collection of all the soundtracks I listened to while I was writing or working out ideas for "Prince", arranged in chronological order from early to final chapters. The total playing time comes to about 2 hours, so you can listen to some, all, or none of the songs if you wish. The link is here (remove spaces): goo . gl / TRX3UX _

_What's next for my writing? I don't know right now. Seeing as I don't have any fresh ideas for _Beauty and the Beast _stories, and don't have the motivation to write a full Gaston/Fiona redemption fic, any new stories I write will most likely be prompt fills you can read on my AO3 (see my profile for the link). Come 2015, there's a chance I may write a _Beauty and the Beast _crossover fic with _Assassin's Creed_, in light of their new video game set in the French Revolution, but it all depends on how much I like it, or if I think the plot can connect to anything in the BATB universe. I understand that not all of you play video games, so I don't expect I'll get as many readers for it if I ever publish it. But I'll send you some extra cookies if you do stop by!_

_Until then,_

_The Green Archer, over and out!_


End file.
